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Sentinel  Print,  UTaltham. 


K\tJ 


ofnO 


# 


/ 


NEW    IRELAND. 


BY 

A.  M.  SULLIVAN, 

MEMBER     OF     PARLIAMENT     FOR     LOUTH. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

18  78. 


I 


■SW 


'mm.  CCtlESs  LBMOT 


m  2  2  1986 


PEEFATOET. 


WiTHix  considerably  less  than  half  a  century,  changes, 
social  and  political,  accomplishing  a  veritable  revolution, 
have  taken  place  in  Ireland.  In  the  following  pages  I 
have  undertaken,  not  so  much  to  picture  them  in  all  their 
phases,  or  to  write  a  formal  history  of  the  period,  as  to  sup- 
ply, chiefly  from  personal  observation,  a  series  of  sketches 
or  narratives  which  may  perhaps  assist  in  the  readier  and 
more  correct  appreciation  of  visible  results. 

I  have,  indeed,  been  mindful  of  the  fact  that  this  work 
would  be  published,  and,  if  I  may  say  it,  be  read,  in 
England;  yet  I  decided  not  to  write  it  either  "for"  or 
"at"  the  English  people,  but  to  tell  my  story  in  my  own 
way,  and  from  my  own  point  of  view.  I  do  not  pretend  to 
be  dispassionate.  I  have  borne — as  will  be  seen  in  what 
follows — an  active  part  in  some  of  the  stormiest  scenes  of 
Irish  public  life  for  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  century;  and 
I  wish  to  hold  my  place  as  a  man  of  decided  views  and 
strong  convictions.  I  trust,  however,  it  may  be  found  that 
I  have  taken  thought  of  the  responsibilities  which  devolve 
upon  one  who  attempts  a  contribution,  no  matter  how  hum- 
ble, to  the  history  of  his  time,  not  to  the  controversies  of 
politics  or  polemics. 

I  avow,  perhaps,  too  bold  an  ambition  in  expressing  the 

3 


4  PREFATORY. 

hope  that  these  chapters  may  assist  in  promoting  that  better 
understanding  and  kindlier  feeling  between  the  New  Eng- 
land and  the  New  Ireland  which  patriotic  hearts  on  either 
shore  must  assuredly  desire.  No  lighter  consideration,  no 
hope  less  high,  has  led  me  to  undertake  them. 

ALEXAXDEK  M.  SULLIVAN. 
London,  September  25,  1877. 


OOI^TEI^J^TS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — Looking  Back 7 

II. — "The  Schoolmaster  Abroad" 15 

III. — O'CONNELL    AND    EePEAL 30 

IV. — The  Kibbon  Confederacy 50 

V. — Father  Mathew 67 

TI.— "The  Black  roRTY-SEVEN"        .....  83 

VII.—"  Young  Ireland" 98 

VIII.— "  Forty-Eight" 116 

IX. — After-Scenes 131 

X. — The  Crimson  Stain 145 

XI. — "  LocHABER  NO  3Iore!" 162 

XII. — The  Encumbered  Estates  Act 178 

XIII.— The  Tenant  League    .        .        ...        .        .197 

XIV.—"  The  Brass  Band" 215 

XV.— The  Suicide  Banker 231 

XVI. — The  Arbuthnot  Abduction 249 

XVII.— The  Phcenix  Conspiracy 267 

XVIIL— Papal  Ireland 280 

XIX.— The  Fate  of  Glenveih 298 

XX. — The  Fenian  Movement 316 

XXI.— A  Troubled  Time 336 

XXII.— The  Kichmond  Escape 349 

XXIII. — Insurrection  I 367 

XXIV.— The  Scaffold  and  the  Cell 385 

XXV. — "  Delenda  est  Carthago!" 404 

XXVI. — Disestablishment 424 

1*  5 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XXYII. — LOXGFORD      .... 

XXYIII.— "Home  Kule"    . 
XXIX. — The  Kerry  Electiox 

XXX. — Balltcohet 
XXXI. — The  Disestablished  Church 
XXXII. — Ireland  at  Westmixster 
XXXIII.— Loss  AXD  Gain  . 


PAGE 

443 
459 
475 
491 
505 
515 
526 


NEW    IRELAND. 


CHAPTER    I. 

LOOKING   BACK. 


The  years  that  reach  from  the  fifth  to  the  eighth  decade  of 
this  century  cov^er  an  eventful  time  in  general  history.  They 
have  brought  great  changes  on  every  hand  for  nations  and 
peoples.  Even  M'here  no  clash  of  arras  has  sounded,  other 
forces  have  effected  revolutions;  other  causes  have  been  at 
work  to  destroy  the  Old  and  set  up  the  New.  Ancient  land- 
marks have  been  overthrown;  long-treasured  customs,  habits, 
and  traditions  swept  away ;  and  in  instances  not  a  few  the 
whole  face  of  society  has  been  altered,  for  better  or  for  worse. 
In  Ireland  this  period  has  witnessed  some  startling  transfor- 
mations. It  may,  indeed,  be  said  that  the  Old  Ireland — the 
Ireland  of  forty  years  ago — can  now  be  seen  no  more. 

Revisiting  recently  the  scenes  of  my  early  life,  I  realized 
more  vividly  than  ever  the  changes  which  thirty  years  had 
effected.  I  sailed  once  more  over  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay 
on  which  I  was,  so  to  say,  cradled  ;  climbed  the  hills  and 
trod  the  rugged  defiles  of  Glengariffe  and  Beara,  by  paths  and 
passes  learned  in  childhood  and  remembered  still.  The  ma- 
terial scene  in  all  its  wild  beauty  and  savage  grandeur  was 
unchanged ;  but  it  was  plain  that  a  new  order  of  things  had 
arisen.  New  faces  were  around  me, — new  manners,  habits, 
and  social  usages.     The  Gaelic  salutations  were  few;  it  was 

7 


8  JS'EW  IRELAND. 

in  the  English  tongue  that  "  A  fine  day,  sir,"  took  the  place 
of  "  God  save  you"  in  the  Irish.  "  My  foot"  was  indeed  "  on 
my  native  heath,"  vet  I  felt  in  a  sense  a  stranger.  Not  there, 
but  in  Boston  and  Milwaukee  and  San  Francisco,  could  be 
found  the  survivors  of  the  hardy  fishermen  and  simple 
mountaineers  among  whom  I  grew  to  boyhood.  Yet,  natural 
regrets  apart,  I  owned  that  all  the  change  was  not  disaster. 
JNIuch  indeed  had  been  lost,  but  much  had  been  gained. 

Was  all  that  I  saw,  all  that  I  missed,  a  reflection  or  figure 
in  miniature  of  what  had  taken  place  throughout  the  island  ? 
Unquestionably  this  district  and  its  people  had  long  played 
a  typical  part,  so  to  speak,  in  the  vicissitudes  of  our  national 
lite.  The  extreme  southwest  Qf -Ixgjand,  the  Atlantic  angle 
formed  by  West  Cork  and  Kerry,  long  has  had  a  peculiar 
interest  for  the  student  of  Irish  history,  social  and  political. 
Mr.  Froude  gives  it  unusual  prominence  as  the  scene  of  what 
he  considers  characteristic  incidents  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  In  the  last  formidable  struggle  of  the 
Gaelic  princes  for  native  sovereignty,  this  region  performed 
in  the  soutTi"\'ery  much  the  part  which  Donegal  played  in 
the  north;  the  three  men  under  whom  the  final  campaign 
of  1595-1599  was  fought  being  Hugh  O'Xeill,  Prince  of 
Tyrone,  Hugh  O'Donnell,  Prince  of  Tyrconnell,  and  Donal 
O'Sullivan.^  Clii^ftain  of  Beara.  ~~~ 

In  that  struggle  Spaui  was  the  ally  of  the  Irish  Chiefs, 
and  the  proximity  of  the  Carbery  and  Beara  headlands  to 
the  Iberian  peninsula — the  facilities  offered  by  their  deep 
bays  and  ready  harbors  for  the  landing  of  expeditions,  en- 
voys, arms,  and  subsidies — gave  to  the  district  that  impor- 
tailce  which  it  retained  dow^  to  1796,  when  it  was  the  scene 
of  the  attempted  or  rather  intendecTTrench-  invasion  under 
Hoche.  Declared  forfeit  ift  1607,  on  the  conclusion  of  the 
campaign  above  referred  to,  confiscated  again  in  1641,  and  a 
third  time  in  1691,  Beara  at  length  passed  totally  from  the 


LOOKING  BACK.  9 

O'Sullivans.  The  last  notable  member  of  the  disinherited 
family*  entered  the  service  of  France  with  the  Irish  army 
under  Sarsfield,  on  the  capitulation  of  Limerick. 

The  clansmen  scowled  on  the  new  landlords,  who,  indeed, 
for  very  long  after  never  ventured  upon  even  a  visit  to  the 
place.  From  1700  to  1770,  as  Mr.  Froude  has  very  graphic- 
ally described,  Bantry  and  the  surrounding  Jjays  were  the 
great  outlets  through  which,  in  defiance  of  the  utmost  power 
and  vigilance  of  the  Government,  shiploads  of  recruits  for 
the  Iri.'^h  Brigade  (called,"  wild  p;eese'^  in  the  bills  of  Indino-^ 
and  cargoes  of  wool  (at  the  time  forbidden  to  be  exported) 
were  despatched  to  France,  Spain,  and  the  Low  Countries. 

In  the  smuggling  or  exportation  of  contraband  fleeces,  and 
importation  of  silk,_J3randy,  and  tobacco,  the  population 
pushed  a  lucrative  and  exciting  trade  down  very  nearly  to 
the  close  of  tlie  last  century,  when  it  may  be  said  to  have 
totally  disappeared.  ~~ITencefor\vard  they  devoted  themselves 
exclusively  and  energetically  to  a  combination  of  fishing  and 
petty  agriculture ;  their  characters,  manners,  habits,  and  tra- 
ditions, their  virtues  and  their  vices,  more  or  less  impressed 
by  the  antecedent  history  which  I  have  endeavored  thus 
briefly  to  sketch. 

It  is  among  this  class,  the  rural  population,  that  the  most 
strikino;  chang-es  have  been  wrouo-ht  all  over  Irelaud  within 
the  present  generation.  The  Irish  peasant  of  forty  years  ago 
— his  home,  his  habits,  manners,  dress,  his  wit  and  humor, 
his  tender  feeling,  his  angry  passions,  his  inveterate  preju-. 
dices — all  these  have  been  portrayed  with  more  or  less  of  ex- 
aggeration a  hundred  times.  Caricature  has  done  its  worst 
with  the  subject ;  but  justice  has  sometimes  touched  the  theme. 
One  of  the  changes  most  pleasing  in  our  time  is  the  fact  that 

*  His  sister  was  wife  of  Colonel^IacMahon,  of  the  same  service,  direct 
ancestor  of  Marshal  Patrick  MacMahon,  Duke  of  Magenta,  President  of 
the  French  Kepublio. 


10  i\"£ir  IRELAND. 

in  England  the  clumsy  "stage  Irishman"  of  former  days  is 
no  longer  rapturously  declared  to  be  the  very  acme  of  truth- 
ful delineation.  The  Irish  are  keenly  sensitive  to  ridicule  or 
derision ;  and  to  see  the  national  character  travestied  in  mis- 
erable novel  or  brutal  farce — the  Irish  peasant  pictured  as  a 
compound  of  idiot  and  buffoon — for  the  merriment  of  the 
master  race,  was  an  exasperation  more  fruitful  of  hatred  be- 
tween the  peoples  than  the  fiercest  invective  of  those  "  agita- 
tors" whom  it  has  been  the  fashion  to  credit  with  the  exclusive 
manufacture  of  Irish  sedition. 

Banim  and  Griffin,  Mrs.  Hall  and  Carleton,  have  left  pic- 
tures of  Irish  life  and  character  which  on  the  whole  cannot  be 
surpassed  for  fidelity  and  effectiveness.  The  only  class  which 
none  of  them  have  photographed  for  us  are  the^cottier  fisher- 
men communities  that lhirty_yeaES_agQ_crowded  the  coasts  of 
Connaught  and  Munster.  These  have  almost  entirely  van- 
ished. The  Irish  Fishery  Commissioners  year  by  year  be- 
wail their  disappearance;  the  royal  and  mercantile  navy  miss 
the  hardy  and  fearless  seamen  so  easily  picked  up  along  these 
harbors,  trained  from  childhood  to  combat  wave  and  wind. 
Deep-sea  fishing  properly  so  called  was  hardly  attempted,  the 
boats  and  gear  to  be  found  around  the  western  coast  being 
quite  inadequate  for  the  purpose.  Kinsale  and  Cape  Clear 
boasted  some  fine  "  hookers"  engaged  in  the  lino;  and  cod 
fishery ;  but  six-oared  herring-seine  boats  were  the  craft  most 
generally  in  use.  The  crews  tilled  small  farms  or  rocky 
patches  of  potato-ground  when  the  moonlight  was  too  bright 
for  fishing  ;  and  on  the  potatoes  thus  raised,  and  a  reserve  of 
the  fish  for  home  use,  they  altogether  depended  for  subsist- 
ence. Between  Cape  Clear  and  Dursey  Island  a  little  pilot- 
ing was  sometimes  done ;  albeit  ^Yfii^jr  little  IrnoNv ledge  of 
compass  or  quadrant  ejdsted—ampng  the  ^pilots."  One  of 
them  told  me  how  nearly  he  missed  a  "splendid  job" — five 
pounds'  worth — because  he  could  not  "  box  the  compass"  for 


LOOKING  BACK.  \\ 

the  captain  of  a  West  Indiaman  homeward  bound.  "Not 
box  the  compass!"  exclaimed  the  captain.     "You  a  pilot!" 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  mean,  sir,  I  cannot  do  it  in  English.  You  see, 
sir,  we  all  speak  Irish  in  our  village  on  shore,  barrin'  a  little 
English  that  me  and  the  boys  picks  up,  ye  see,  from  being 
after  the  ships." 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  after  a  pause,  "  let  me  hear  you 
do  it  in  Irish."  He,  correctly  enough,  reflected  that  in  al- 
most any  language  one  could  detect  whether  the  words  would 
follow  with  such  similarity  of  sound  as  north,  north-and-by- 
east,  north-north-east,  north-east-by-north,  and  so  on.  But 
old  Jack  Downing  was  just  as  sharp  as  the  captain  was  keen. 
Often  and  often  at  Mrs.  Crowley's  public-house  on  shore  he 
had  heard  sailors  "  box  the  compass ;"  and  though  he  could 
not  attempt  the  task,  he  knew  how  it  sounded  to  the  ear. 

"Yes,  to  be  sure,  sir;  I'll  do  it  for  you  in  Irish."  And 
he  forthwith  began  in  homely  Gaelic  to  recite,  "  My  grand- 
father— my  grandmother — my  grandfather's  grandmother — 
my  grandmother's  grandfather — my  great-great-grandfather 
-my " 

"  Stop,  stop,"  shouted  the  captain,  perfectly  convinced.  "  I 
see,  my  poor  fellow,  I  had  wronged  you :  take  charge  of  the 
ship." 

Few  sights  could  be  more  picturesque  than  the  ceremony 
by  which,  in  our  bay,  the  fishing-season  was  formally  opened. 
Selecting  an  auspicious  day,  unusually  calm  and  fine,  the 
boats,  from  every  creek  and  inlet  for  miles  around,  rendez- 
voused at  a  given  point,  and  then,  in  solemn  procession,  rowed 
out  to  sea,  the  leading  boat  carrying  the  priest  of  the  district. 
Arrived  at  the  distant  fishing-ground,  the  clergyman  vested 
himself,  an  altar  was  improvised  on  the  stern-sheets,  the  at- 
tendant fleet  drew  around,  and  every  head  was  bared  and 
bowed  while  the  mass  was  said.  I  have  seen  this  "  mass  on 
the  ocean"  when  not  a  breeze  stirred,  and  the  tinkle  of  the 


12  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

little  bell  or  the  murmur  of  the  priest's  voice  was  the  only 
sound  that  reached  the  ear,  the  blue  hills  of  Bantry  faint  on 
the  horizon  behind  us,  and  nothing  nearer  beyond  than  the 
American  shore ! 

Where  are  all  these  now  ?  The  "  mass  on  the  ocean"  is  a 
thing  of  the  past,  heard  of  and  seen  no  more;  one  of  the  old 
customs  gone  apparently  forever.  The  fishermen, — the  fine 
big-framed  fellows,  of  tarry  hands  and  storm-stained  faces? 
The  workhouse  or  the  grave  holds  all  who  are  not  dockside 
men  on  the  Thames  or  the  Mersey,  on  the  Hudson  or  the 
Mississijipi.  The  boats?  I  saw  nearly  all  that  remains  of 
them  when  I  last  visited  the  little  cove  that  in  my  early  days 
scarce  sufficed  to  hold  the  fleet, — at  low  water,  skeleton  ribs 
protruding  here  and  there  from  the  sand,  or  shattered  hulks 
helplessly  mouldering  under  the  trees  that  drooped  into  the 
tide  when  at  the  full. 

Off  the  western  coast  of  Ireland  are  several  islands  the  in- 
habitants of  which,  previous  to  the  present  generation,  never 
quitted,  never  cared  to^Qijtj^^heirjjrison  homes.  The  main- 
land— Ireland — was  to  them  a  vast  continent,  where  astound- 
ing marvels  were,  it  was  said,  to  be  seen.  Torry  Island  ("In- 
nis-Torragh" — Isle  of  Towers),  off  Donegal,  retains  attlie 
present  day,  to  a  large  degree,  this  isolation.  It  is  still 
governed  by  a  fisherman  Idng^^lected  by  the  community  of 
three  or  four  hundred  souTsT  Quite  recently,  I  believe,  a  po- 
lice barrack,  as  well  as  a  coast-guard  station,  has  been  placed 
there ;  but  the  "  king"  is,  after  all,  the  authority  most  deferred 
to.  Strange  to  siy,  the  present  potentate  of  Torry  is  a  Prot- 
estant, and  the  only  professor  of  tliat  creed  (outside  the  police 
barrack  and  the  coast-guard  lodge)  on  the  island. 

Technically,  or  theoretically,  Torry  belonged  to  some  barony 
on  the  neighboring  mainland  ;  but  until  a  couple  of  years  ago 
no  one  dreamed  of  asserting  this  legal  fact  by  calling  on  the 
Torrymen  to  pay  baronial  cess  for  making  roads  in  the  county 


LOOKING   BACK.  13 

on  the  other  side  of  "  the  sound."  They  made  their  o^Yn 
roads,  they  used  none  other,  and  for  none  other  would  they 
pay.  So  spake  the  "  king."  The  cess  collector  proceeded  to 
gather  a  flotilla  fofahTnvasion,  with  purpose  as  resolute  as 
that  of  the  Norman  William  assembling  his  galleys  in  the 
roadstead  of  St.  Valery.  Happily  the  authorities,  anxious  to 
avoid  a  conflict  with  a  community  so  peculiar  and  so  largely 
recommended  to  kindly  sympathies,  devised  some  compromise 
which  averted  hostilities. 

Serious  crime  was,  and  I  believe  is,  almost  unknown  among 
these  islanders.  In  Torry  the  first  illegitimate  birth  known 
within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  occurred  about 
twenty  years  ago,  and  caused  much  commotion  and  dismay. 
A  Torry  girl  had  been  to  fnrm -service  on  thp  mninlnnd,  and 
returned  home  to  import  the  first  moral  stain  of  such  a  nature 
ever  affixed  on  the  character  of  her  native  island.  The  whole 
community  met,  under  the  presidency  of  tliaJUiLog^'  and 
with  one  voice  decreed  banishment  to  Ireland  for  the  hapless 
offender.  When  strong  enough  to  bear  removal,  she  and  the 
infant  were  rowed  across  the  sound.  The  neighbors  gave  her 
gifts  and  presents  to  help  her  in  the  future ;  but  she  was  to 
return  to  Torry  no  more. 

The  present  Bishop  of  Kerry,  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  ^loriarty, 
told  me  he  was  making  a  visitation  of  his  diocese,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Blasket  Islands,  in  1856.  The  opportunity 
was  seized  by  a  young  islander,  who  was  desirous  of  getting 
married,  to  cross  to  the  mainland  and  obtain  a  dispensation 
from  his  lordship,  rendered  necessary  by  some  circumstance 
in  the  case.  He  had  never  crossed  before,  and  he  was  all 
wonderment  at  what  he  saw.  The  bishop  thought  it  right  to 
assure  himself  as  to  the  knowledge  on  the  islander's  part  of, 
at  all  events,  the  cardinal  points  of  the  Christian  doctrine. 

"  How  many  gods  are  there,  my  good  boy  ?"  his  lordship 
asked,  in  Irish. 

2 


14  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

"  "Well,  great  and  holy  priest,"  replied  the  islander,  "  in 
Blasketmore  we  have  but  one-^  biitilia_xery  likely  there  may 
be  more  than  that  in  this--g¥eat_big_axirld__here.''  Father 
Casey  was  directed  to  give  the  Blasketmore  man  a  few  days' 
catechetical  instruction,  and  then  admit  him  to  the  matri- 
monial bond. 

This  class — the  Atlantic  coast  and  island  men,  from  Cape 
Clear  to  Malin  Head — suffered  severely,  were  almost  swept 
away,  by  the  famine  of  1847  ;  a  brave  and  hardy  race,  fa- 
vorably distinguished  in  many  respects  from  the  peasantry 
of  the  midland  counties.  Their  isolation  saved  them  from 
the  conflicts  that  disorganized  the  agrarian  system  in  other 
portions  of  the  kingdom.  Their  hard  lot,  their  humble 
life,  oifered  little  temptation  to  envy  or  cupidity.  The 
ocean  was  their  principal  "  farm,"  and  on  this  no  landlord 
could  raise  a  rent.  The  war  of  ckss  and  race  and  creed,  that 
betimes  raged  elsewhere  in  Ireland.  ne%^er  touched  these  com- 
munities. Every  man  was  their  neighbor,  and  every  stranger 
was  a  friend.  Even  at  the  present  day,  though  greatly  weak- 
ened by  the  ordeal  of  the  past  thirty  years,  they  present  an 
interesting  study,  as  perhaps  the  truest  relics  we  now  possess 
of  the  Celtic  peasantry  in  the  Ireland  of  old  times. 

Looking  back  upon  those  scenes,  recalling  such  memories, 
I  am  not  Stoic  enough  to  contemplate  unmoved  the  picture 
presented  to  my  view.  Yet  it  is  needful  to  remember  that  in 
these  retrospects  justice  is  not  always  done  to  the  present ;  a 
true  value  is  rarely  placed  on  the  advance  which,  amidst 
combat  and  striving  that  often  appear  fruitless,  and  suflFering 
and  sacrifice  that  seem  beyond  compensation,  is  nevertheless 
being  well  established  throughout  the  world,  all  along  the 
line  of  civilization. 


CHAPTER    11. 

"the  schoolmaster  abroad." 

Fifty  years  ago  the  sclioolrnaster  was  not  abroad  in  Ire- 
land. Indeed,  in  the  previous  century  he  had  better  not  have 
been,  if  lie  wished  to  avoid  conviction  for  felony  under  the 
8th  of  Anne,  cap,  iii.  sec.  16.  In  most  of  the  rural  parishes 
of  Ireland  not  half  a  century  ago,  the  man  who  could  read 
a  newspaper  or  write  a  letter  was  a  distinguished  individual, 
a  useful  and  important  functionary.  He  "\vas  tliej)hilosoph£ii_ 
of  the  district.  He  wrote^the  letters  for  all  the  parish,  and  he 
read  the  replies  for  the  neighbors  who  received  them.  After 
mass  on  Sunday,  if  haply  the  parish  priest  was  rich  enough 
to  take  a  newspaper,  the  same  public  benefactor  read  from 
Father  Tom's  last-but-one  weekly  or  bi-weekly  broadsheet 
the  news  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  world.  If  the  weather 
was  fine,  seated  on  the  green  sodded  fence, — on  rainy  days 
perched  on  the  anvil  in  the  neighboring  smithy, — he  gave 
forth  to  the  eager  and  wondering  crowd  the  latest  speech  of 
O'Connell  or  Shell,  Peel  or  Stanley.  Occasionally  the  paro- 
chial letter-writer  and  public  reader  was,  as  in  Italy  even  at 
the  present  day,  a  sort  of  professional,  charging  a  fee  for  his 
services.  Some  of  these  practitioners  had  set  forms  for  letters 
of  a  certain  classification,  whence  perhaps  arose  the  idea  of 
the  "  Complete  Letter- Writer"  as  a  publication.* 

*  One  of  my  colleagues  in  the  Nation  office  showed  me  not  long  since 
a  letter  which  came  from  a  youthful  correspondent  in  Clare,  who  wanted 
"Mr.  Editor"  to  recommend  to  him  "A  Complete  Letter- Writer  on 
Love  or  ^^usjjiess ; "  adding,  by  way  of  postscript,  "  N.B.  Love  pre^ 
ferred  atj^resent." 
15 


16  NEW  IRELAND. 

In  these  performances  lengthy  words,  or  those  strange  and 
new  in  sound,  were  highly  valued.  A  word  of  four  syllables 
was  supposed  to  be  twice  as  powerful  as  one  of  two.  A  paro- 
chial letter-writer  in  Bearhaven  who  used  to  boast  that  he  had 
"  broken" — i.e.,  procured  the  dismissal  of — three  gaugers 
and  removed  two  sub-inspectors  was  once  retained  to  indite 
a  complaint  against  a  policeman.  He  read  out  to  his  awe- 
struck clients  as  the  finish  of  a  sentence,  "he  being  super- 
eminently obnoxious  to  the  people."  "Do  you  hear  that?" 
said  he,  laying  down  the  pen  for  a  moment,  and  looking 
around  with  an  air  of  pride  and  triumph  :  "supereminently  ! 
That  one  word  alone  is  enough  to  take  the  jacket  off  him !" 

That  a  few  of  these  learned  letter-writers  survive  here  and 
there  in  Ireland  I  have  had  evidence  from  time  to  time  in 
the  course  of  my  editorial  experiences  in  Dublin.  Out  of 
quite  a  store  of  such  curiosities  I  quote  two  communications 
sent  for  j)Ublicatiou  to  one  of  my  journals.  The  first  deals 
with  "  Sunday-closing :" 

"Sir, — It  is  an  indubitable  fact,  absolutely  impervious  to  the  rati- 
ocination of  anj-  syllogistic  political  economist,  that  the  solicitude  of 
British  representatives  for  the  auriferous  progress  of  the  excise  divests 
them  of  every  sentiment  of  philanthropy,  of  all  consideration  for  the 
sociiil  misery,  the  moral  derogation,  and  the  domestic  indigence  of  the 
infatuated  frequenters  of  public-houses  on  Sundays.  But  to  deviate  from 
general  principles  to  facts  in  particular,  I  think  that  a  moiety  of  Irish 
publicans  seem  to  have  but  little  scrupulous  regard  to  the  dictates  of 
conscience  in  deriving  benefits  from  the  ruination  of  their  customers. 
That  the  publican's  till  is  the  receptacle  of  a  large  amount  of  the  wealth 
of  the  country  is  clearly  demonstrated  by  the  fact  of  their  wives  being 
a  vivid  panorama  of  bon  ton,  and  actually  living  to  all  aitpearances  in 
perpetual  anticipation  of  the  various  vicissitudes  of  fashion.  Indeed 
some  alcoholic  vendors  rather  disingenuously  carry  on  a  magnetic  sys- 
tem of  lucrative  appropriation  through  the  medium  of  an  exquisite 
barmaid,  whose  commercial  smile  of  inexpressible  blandiloquence  is 
invariably  calculated  to  stimulsite.  the  extra viigaiiL  propensities  of  the 
young  and  industrious  artisan. — Eespectfully  yours, 

"Saturn." 


''THE  SCHOOLMASTER   ABROAD:'  17 

Of  another,  from  the  same  correspondent,  devoted  to  the 

vexed  question  of  "  Connemara  Proselytism,"  I  quote  the 

opening  portion : 

"  Cong,  April  12,  1874. 
"  SiK, — I  sincerely  trust  I  will  not  be  considered  an  animated  defi- 
nition of  the  mediocral  abilities  existing  between  the  sublime  and  the 
ridiculous  when  I  say  that  a  Catholic  Irishman  whose  solicitude  for  the 
annihilation  of  the  various  considerations  appertaining  to  sectarian  ani- 
mosities may  have  induced  him  to  entertain  a  profound  repugnance  to 
all  kinds  of  religious  discussions,  can  have  no  earthly  objection  to  class 
amongst  the  most  ostensible  of  Ireland's  grievances  the  odious  prev- 
alence in  the  isolated  districts  of  an  accumulation  of  stipendiary  bible- 
readers,  whose  terrestrial  ideas  of  the  sanctimonious  are  orthodoxly 
proved  to  be  by  'no  means  diametrical  to  the  dictates  of  a  pecuniary 
inspiration  by  their  indefatigable  efforts  to  propagate  the  grand  tenet 
that  the  celestial  felicity  of  a  defunct  Papist  can  only  be  achieved 
through  the  medium  of  sundry  scriptural  quotations,  and  the  quondam 
system  of  immeasurable  doses  of  infallible  broth.  Having  fortuitously 
encountered  one  of  these  sublunary  gentlemen,  \,  being  unable  to  sur- 
mount the  difficulties  of  an  analytical  excavation  of  the  Scriptures, 
felt  myself  under  the  sternly  imperative  necessity  of  having  recourse 
to  a  perfunctory  subterfuge  that  precipitated  his  biblical  interpolations 
into  a  chaotic  state  of  chimerical  amalgamation." 

These  erudite  contributions  were,  alas!  not  given  to  the 
public  eye;  but  my  colleague,  who  withheld  them  from  print, 
was  careful  to  hand  them  to  me  for  a  place  in  my  jDortfolio 
of  literary  treasures. 

It  was  illiteracy,  not  ignorance  in  a  degrading  sense,  that 
prevailed  forty  years  ago  in  Ireland.  The  Irish  peasant 
was  naturally  intelligent,  was  not  deficient  in  knowledge  of 
things  necessary  for  his  avocations,  and  above  all  he  was,  in 
a  simple  rustic  way,  coui'teous  and  polite.  The  great  butt 
of  taunt  and  sarcasm  throughout  the  parish  was  an  "  ignora- 
mus,"— one  who  was  clumsy,  ill-mannered,  or  stupid.* 

*  One  of  the  changes  most  noticeable  in  the  Irish  peasant  who  has 
been  to  America  and  has  returned  home,  is  a  disregard  of  and  cpul&mpt 
for  little  courtesies  that  he  has  come  to  believe  were  servilities.    In  a  land 

2* 


18  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

It  was  a  calamity,  the  evil  eifects  of  which  will  long  out- 
live even  the  best  efforts  to  retrieve  them,  that  at  the  period 
when  in  other  countries,  and  especially  in  England  and  Scot- 
land, popular  education  was  being  developed  and  extended 
into  a  public  system,  in  Ireland  the  legislature  of  the  day 
was  passing  statute  after  statute  to  prohibit  and  punish 
any  acceptable  education  whatsoever — university,  inter- 
mediate, or  primary — for  nine-tenths  of  the  population. 
That  is  to  say,  the  bulk  of  the  population  being  Catholic, 
penal  laws  against  Catholic  schools — laws  which  made  it 
felony  for  a  Catholic  to  act  as  teacher,  usher,  or  monitor, 
and  civil  death  for  a  Catholic  child  to  be  *taught  by  any 
such  masters — were  virtually  a  prohibition  of  education  to 
the  mass  of  the  people.  No  useful  purpose  can  be  served 
by  a  dismal  parade  in  these  pages  of  the  enactments  that 
throughout  nearly,  the  whole  of  the  last  century  effected  that 
dreadful  proscription.  Statute  after  statute,  penalty  after 
penalty,  was  rained  upon  the  people. 

"  Still  crouching  'neath  the  sheltering  hedge,  or  stretch'd  on  mountain 

fern, 
The  teacher  and  his  pupils  met,  feloniously,  to  learn !" 

The  man  who  thoughtlessly,  or  unaware  of  the  facts, 
points  blame  or  scorn  at  the  Irish  for  their  "  ignorance" 
little  knows  what  he  is  about.  In  whatever  else  they  may 
be  amenable  to  reproach  or  censure,  in  the  matter  of  educa- 
tion the  Irish  are  not  culprits  but  victims. 

of  liberty  and  repuolican  equality  he  learned  tr  rrfljrjt  "gith  nhnrnft  ]l■r•^x  he 
touched  his  Iiat_to  a  social  superior  at  home.  'Twas  a  slavish  custom, 
he  thinks,  and  he  throws  it  off,  assuiTTtng  instead  what  he  means  to 
he  an  assertive  independence  and  equality,  that  too  often  is  merely 
rud£»es*^  No  doubt  in  Ireland  there  was  to  be  seen  downriglit~and 
painful  servility;  cringing,  cowering  slaves  standing  on  the  Roadside 
with  bared  heads,  in  falling  rain  or  sleet,  while  some  squireen  lashed 
them  with  his  ^ongue.  But  between  this  and  the"genuine  politeness  of 
the  Irish  peasantof  the  better^type  the  difference  was  wide  and  plain. 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  19 

As  early  as  1783  the  legislature  commenced  repealing  the 
severest  of  these  enactments  against  Catholic  teaching  in  Ire- 
land;  by  1830  they  had  nearly  all  been  swept  away;  and 
in  the  year  following,  the  late~ijoir3l)erby,  at  that  time  Mr. 
Stanley,  Irish  Chief  Secretary,  projbosed  and  established  the 
present  State-school  system.  By  this  a  Government  board 
of  commissioners  was  established  in  Dublin  to  superintend 
and  administer  primary _ediication  tliroughout  Ireland.  No 
Government  schools  were  set  up  or  newly  established ;  but 
local  patrons  or  managers  of  primary__schools  were  invited 
to  attach  themselves  to  the  Board  and  obtain  ar-yeatly-grant 
of  funds  by  conforming  to  the  rules  of  the  news^'stem.  To 
schools  so  placed  under  or  in  connection  with  their  authority 
the  commissioners  granted  school  requisites  at  reduced  price, 
and  a  contribution  towards  the  teachers'  salaries.  On  the 
other  hand,  such  schools  were  subject  to  visitation  and  report 
on  the  part  of  Government  inspectors,  and  any  infringement 
of  the  fundamental  regulations  forfeited  the  grant. 

There  had  not  been  wanting  efforts  enough  previously  to 
supply  Ireland  with  public  schools;  but  they  were  seminaries 
which  the  Catholic  Irish  could  not  be  induced  to  enter. 
There  were  the  Royal  Free  Schools  in  1608,  Erasmus 
Smith's  Schools  in  1733,  the  London  Hibernian  Society  Schools 
in  1811,  besides  quite  a  number  of  others.  They  all  aimed 
more  or  less  energetically  at  "  weaning  the  Irish  youth  from 
Popery ;"  and  the  Irish  youth,  still  more  energetically  re- 
fusing to  be  so  weaned,  stopped  away  en  masse.  In  the  sad 
choice  between  loss  pf  school  education  on  the  one  hand  and 
sacrifice  of  religious  convictions  on  the  other,  Irish  parents 
preferred  the  former  for  their  children.  It  was  not  that  they 
cared  little  for  education ;  they  passionately  worshipped  it, — 
yearned  for  it,  as  the  blind  may  long  to  see  the  wonders  of 
the  earth  and  skies  which  they  hear  of  but  cannot  realize. 
They  dared  the  penalties  of  the  7  Will.  III.  cap.  iv.  sec.  1, 


20  iS'A'JF  IRELAND. 

— which  made  it  civil  death  for  a  Popish  child  to  be  sent  to 
a  school  in  foreigii_j>arts.  Contraband  scholars  often  were 
the  return  cargoes  of  the  smuggljng  craft  that  nightly  ran 
silks  and  brandies  into  Irish  creeks  and  bays  in  the  early 
part  of  the  last  century.  The  Irish  valued  education  much, 
but  they  loved  religion  more. 

Over  the  Irish  national-school  system  established  by  Mr. 
Stanley  in  1831  a  fierce  controversy  has  raged  for  some  years. 
In  one  respect  at  all  events,  and  indeed  in  many  more  respects 
than  one,  it  has  been  a  marvellous  success,  despite  circum- 
stances which  have  greatly  marred  and  circumscribed  its 
operations.  That  is  to  say,  although  that  scheme  rather 
pai;ifully  balked  the  Irish  of  that  which  after  such  severe 
suffering  and  sacrifice  they  had  some  reason  to  expect, — 
namely,  a  system  of  public  education  as  much  in  accordance 
with  their  religious  convictions  as  the  Scottish  and  English 
systems  were  with  those~oftheScotcnahd  English  peoples, 
— they  nevertheless  "  attorned"  to  it ;  and  for  the  first  time 
in  Anglo-Irish  annals,  Irish  children  in  thousands  flocked 
into  the  Government  schools. 

Mr.  Stanley  stands  In  hTstory  as  the  author  of  the  scheme ; 
but,  as  a  matter  of  fact.  Lord  Cloncurry  it  was  who  devised 
and  suggested  it,  the  Irish  Secretary  coming  slowly  to  espouse 
the  project.  When  he  did  undertake  the  question,  however, 
he  dealt  with  it  firmly,  and  not  only  went  as  far  towards  a 
complete  solution  as  he  might  dare  at  the  moment,  but  even 
exceeded  in  boldness  what  others  in  his  place  would  probably 
have  proposed.  He  doubtless  reflected  that  he  was  doing 
the  best  that  was  practicable  at  the  time,  and  that  in  any 
event  his  scheme  would  be  welcomed  as  a  blessed  boon  com- 
pared with  the  pre-existing  state  of  things  in  Ireland.  On 
the  one  hand,  all  previous  experiments  aimed  more  or  less 
directly  at  converting  the  Irish  from  Catholicism ;  on  the 
other  hand,  the  Irish  demanded  a  public-school  system  at 


"  THE  SCHOOLMASTER   ABROAD."  21 

least  as  denominational  as  the  English  or  Scottish  system. 
His  proposal  was  to  forUid  proselytism^hut_lQ,.^xclude  all 
denominationalism :  "  combinedniterary  and  separate  religious 
instruction."  At  a  fixed  or  particular  hour  Scripture  lessons, 
catechism  exercises,  or  other  religious  instruction  might  be 
given  by  the  teacher,  or  any  one  else  authorized"l)yTn6^)arent 
so  to  do ;  but  throughout  the  rest  of  the  daj^i_duiiu^lschool- 
hours  proper,  nothing  in  the  nature  of  religious  instruction 
was  allowed.  In  the  early  yeara^of  the  system  (iiardly  in 
consonance  with  the  strict  letter  of  its  rufes)  an  attempt  was 
made  to  go  some  way  towards  what  would  be  called  the 
teaching  of  '^  common  Christianity."  A  scriptural  "  General 
Lesson"  was  framed  by  order  of  the  commissioners,  hung  up 
in  every  school,  and  ordered  to  be  read  aloud  by  teacher  and 
pupils  every  day.  In  the  early  manuals  portions  of  Bible 
history  were  given ;  and  the  Most  Ilev.  Dr.  Whately,  Prot- 
estant archbishop  of  Dublin  (one  of  the  commissioners),  com- 
piled a  book  of  religious  instruction,  called  "  Lessons  on  the 
Truths  of  Christianity,"  which  the  Board  made  a  class-book 
in  the  schools.  But  soon  this  ticklish  experiment  broke' 
down ;  the  common  religious  teaching  was  abandoned,  and 
the  system  was  contracted  more  and_more_adLbia-it3  strict^ 
nonTreligious_basiS;__Secular  schools  were  utterly  repugnant 
to  the  "  denominational"  principles  of  the  Catholics.  Still, 
the  system  was  so  great  a  boon,  compared  with  any  previous 
plan  or  proposal,  that  the  Catholic  prelates,  with  but  few  ex- 
ceptions,* decided  that  to  reject  it  would  be  wrong,  and  might, 
moreover,  seem  like  an  obstruction  of  education  on  their  part. 
The  scheme,  no  doubt,  was  not  theirs;  the  State  was  acting 
on  its  own  view,  for  State  reasons  and  with  State  funds. 
They  would  accept   that   system   under  reserve,  make   the 


*  The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  MacHale,  Archbishop  of  Tuixm,  from  the  outset 
resolutely  refused  to  approve  or  accept  the  new  system. 


22  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

most  of  it,  and  hope  eventually  to  have  it  developed  into 
something  nearer  to  their  own  convictions. 

Lord  Derby's  experiment  had  to  bear  the  disadvantages  in- 
cidental to  compromises.  Protestant  society,  and  this  included 
very  nearly  the  whole  of  the  landed  proprietary,  felt  indig- 
nant. To  give  education  to  these  Catholic  millions,  unless  an 
education  that  would  help  to  lead  them  from  spiritual  slavery 
and  superstition,  could  have  but  an  evil  ending,  if  it  "was  not 
indeed  a  sin.  Ko  aid  would  they  give,  by  local  subscriptions, 
to  such  an  apostasy  from  Bible  principles.  The  Catholics,  on 
the  other  hand,  as  we  have  seen,  had  their  grievance.  "The 
Government  tell  us,"  they  said,  "  that  this  is  what  we  must 
have ;  it  is  their  choice,  not  ours.  Well,  let  them  pay  for  it." 
Between  these  two  complaints  the  Irish  national-education 
system  has  been  left  almost  entirely  dependent  on  the  State 
grant  for  means  of  support;  local  effort,  local  aid,  being  of 
hardly  appreciable  extent.  The  unfortunate  school-teachers 
have  been  great  sufferers  by  this  state  of  things.  On  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  pounds  a  year,  a  young  woman  of  fair  education, 
exemplary  character,  and  respectable  position  was  expected  to 
clothe  and  support  herself,  and  teach  from  day  to  day  in  a 
school  to  and  from  which,  in  the  country  districts,  she  had 
to  walk  three  or  four  miles  in  summer's  sun  and  winter's 
rain.  At  the  present  day — and  the  salaries  have  been 
greatly  improved  within  the  past  ten  years — the  emolu- 
ments of  Irish  national  school-teachers  do  not  average  fifty 
pounds  a  year. 

It  was  a  gigantic  enterprise  to  establish  and  bring  to 
its  present  dimensions  and  comparative  efficiency  the  Irish 
national-school  organization.  Those  who  are  engaged  in 
school-board  work  in  England  find  how  arduous  is  the  task 
of  constructing  a  new  system  even  in  wealthy  cities  and 
towns,  where  schools  of  some  sort  already  exist.  But  all 
over  three-fourths  of  Ireland  everything  had  to  be  under- 


'^THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  23 

taken  ah  initio  and  under  the  most  formidable  disadvantages 
and  discouragements.  Where  were  school-houses  to  be  found? 
"Where  were  teachers  to  be  obtained  ?  Above  all,  where  were 
the  funds  to  come  from?  The  Government  grant,  slender 
enough  at  best,  was  to  be  given  to  "aid"  an  "established" 
school.     How  were  the  schools  to  be  established  ? 

Happily  one  now  sees  when  travelling  through  Ireland 
majiy  neat  and  tidy  little  school-houses,  with  slated  roofs  and 
boarded  floors.  But  the  first  "  national  schools"  were  woful 
make-slmts, — thatched ^abins  with  earthen  floors,  miserable 
and  cheerless  in  winter,  deathly  in  their  effects  on  the  health 
of  teacher  and  pupil.  To  set  up  even  one  of  these  in  a  con- 
siderable district  was  at  first  a  great  achievement.  I  have 
myself  seen  children  of^from  six  to  sixteen  years  of  age 
trudging  (barefooted,  of  course)  over  bog  and  moor,  crag  and 
pathway,  to  such  a^scliool  distant  four  or  five  miles — in  some 
instances  seven  miles — from  their  homes ! 

The  Education  Comrnissioners,  by  more  adequate  parlia- 
mentary grants  placed  at  their  disposal,  have  been  able  to  do 
a  gi'eat  deal  in  helping  the  erection  of  better  school-houses; 
but  the  improvement  now  noticeable  is  almost  entirely  due 
to  the  toilsome  and  unwearied  exertions  of  the  clergy,  who 
are,  as  a  general  rule,  the  local  patrons  or~lnanagers  under 
the  Board.  The  instances  are  also  increasing  every  year 
where  the  Innrlpd  prnpr-iaf-nr  nf  i^^tk  rliQfrjr^  has  largely  or 
wholly  at  his  own  fost  prpptcfl  ^iiiitnblo  nfitiminl  school-houses 
on  the  estate.  Perhaps  the  most  notable  improvement,  how- 
ever, is  that  for  which  the  Irish  schools  are  indebted  to  the 
generosity  of  one  man, — -^r.  A'^ere  Foster.  In  one  of  those 
numerous  pedestrian  tours  through  Ireland  which  Mr.  Foster 
has  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  been  accustomed  to  take,  on 
some  benevolent  or  pbilanfhmpit^  pnrpose  bent,  he  was  struck 
with  the  fact  which  I  have  above  alluded  to, — the  wretched 
discomfort  and   unhealthiness  of  the  damp  earthen  floor  in 


24  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

RohnnU  fre^upntpA  hy  bn^footed  children.  Keeping  for  the 
wliile  his  purpose  to  himself,  he  quietly  noted  down  the  di- 
mensions of  each  such  school  throughout  the  coiuitry,  and, 
when  his  tour  was  completed,  had  a  boarded  floor  supplied 

at  his  own  cost  to  every  one  of  them.*^ -     " 

During  the  tirst  dozen  years  of  its  existence,  the  Irish 
national-school  system,  although  supposed  to  be,  as  we  have 
seen,  quite  undenominational,  was,  in  practice,  denomina- 
tional. In  few  of  the  schools  was  the  attendance  "  mixed." 
In  Ulster,  Protestant  managers  established  schools  in  which 
a  Catholic  child  was  never  seen ;  in  the  other  provinces. 
Catholic  managei's  [generally  the  parish  priests)  established 
schools  in  which  a  Protestant  pupil  never  entered.  In  fact 
in  numberless  parishes  there  were  no  Protestant  youth  to 
enter  or  to  abstain.  It  soon  became  too  patent  an  absurdity 
that  out  of  respect  for  the  conscience  of  the  theoretic  or 
imaginary  but  non-existent  child  of  a  different  persuasion — 
this  "  legal  fiction"  for  which  the  parish  had  never  a  realiza- 
tion— the  whole  school  should  be  conducted  from  year's  end  to 
year's  end  as  if  he  was  in  the  flesh  and  verily  present.  After 
a  while,  teachers  and  managers  disregarded  the  theory ;  and 
for  a  long  time,  despite  the  letter  of  the  Board  rules,  wher- 
ever the  schools  were  exclusively  Protestant  or  exclusively 
Catholic  in  attendance,  they  were  actually  conducted  as  de- 
nominational schools.  In  Ulster,  the  Bible  was  freely  read  at 
all  hours;  in  the  south,  the  Catholic  catechism  mingled  in  the 
whole  day's  exercises.  It  is  not  unlikely,  indeed,  that  the 
commissioners  rather  winked  at  all  this,  and  thought  it  wise 

*  The  author  of  this  generous  act  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men 
in  Ireland.  He  may  be  encountered  betimes,  simply  attired  in  Irish 
home-spun  gray,  with  knapsack  strapped  on  his  back,  and  a  stout  black- 
thorn in  his  hand,  walking  by  easy  stages  through  some  remote  county, 
silently  devising  or  effecting  some  scheme  worthy  of  "  Howard  the 
Good." 


''THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  25 

to  let  the  system  be  accepted, — to  let  it  take  root  and  grow 
anyhow.  Once  it  was  firmly  established  they  could  tighten 
up  both  rule  and  practice. 

I  witnessed  on  one  occasion,  some  years  after  the  tightening- 
up  process  had  gone  into  play,  a  curious  illustration  of  the 
working  of  the  system. 

In  King's  Inn  Street,  Dublin,  in  the  jnidst  of  a  ver}'  poor 
and  wretched  Catholic  jjopulation,  some  of  the  zealous  prose- 
lytizing Protestant  societies  established  a  school  "  under  the 
Board,"  and  duly  received  a  Board  grant.  They  kept  within 
the  Board  rules  as  to  the  hours  for  jreligious  instruction,  yet 
were  able  to  bring  the  ragged  little  Papists  under  scriptural 
class  teaching  all  the  sainej^for  a  breakfast  or  lunch  was 
given  along  with  it.  In  fact,  when  I  visited  the  school,  the 
soup-boilers  were  down -stairs  in  the  basement  in  full  perform- 
ance. """■        — — .,.^^ 

The  Catholic  clergy  soon  heard  of  these  operations  carried 
on  under  the  aegis  of  the  national  Board  system.  They  re- 
monstrated, but  the  Board  could  do  nothing :  its  rules  were 
not  violated.  It  was,  however,  pointed  out  to  the  reverend 
complainants  that  they  too  could  set  up  a  Board  school  in  the 
district;  which  indeed  they  did,  by  taking  the  opposite  house 
in  the  street,  so  that  within  a  perch  of  one  another  there  were 
two  "national  schools"  arrayed  in  denominational  duel.  I 
heard  of  all  this,  and  decided  to  see  it  for  myself.  When  I 
visited  "  No.  2,"  or  the  Catholic  school,  which  was  taught  by 
nuns,  it  was  the  rule  hour  for  "  religious  instruction."  I  was 
astonished  to  see  a  beautiful  little  oratory  at  the  end  of  the 
room,  wreathed  with  flowers,  and  lighted  up  with  tapers, 
while  the  children  were  singing  in  chorus  a  Catholic  hymn. 
"  How  on  earth  do  the  Board  allow  you  to  have  this  ora- 
tory ?"  I  asked  of  the  sister  in  charge.  "  It  is  forbidden  to 
have  any  religious  picture,  symbol,  or  sign,  and  the  practice 
of  silently  bo\ving  the  head  in  mental  prayer,  at  the  stroke 

3 


26  NEW  IRELAND. 

of  the  clock,  has  been  declared  against  the  rules :  yet  here 
you  have  outstripped  all  these." 

"Oh,  not  at  all,"  replied  the  nun  ;  "just  wait  a  while  till 
the  rule  hour  for  resumption  of  school  strikes,  and  you  shall 
see." 

Sure  enough,  at  stroke  of  the  clock  a  transformation  that 
rather  surprised  me  took  place.  Folding  doors  that  I  had 
not  noticed  were  at  once  closed  in  on  the  oratory ;  a  top  fell 
over  it,  steps  were  drawn  out  in  front,  and,  lo !  nothing  ap- 
peared but  a  teacher's  rostrum  ! 

I  hardly  knew  what  to  say, — what  feelings  were  upper- 
most at  the  first  moment ;  but  a  very  little  reflection  satisfied 
me  that  it  could  hardly  have  a  good  moral  effect  on  children 
to  see  the  "  secular"  and  "  religious"  lines  drawn  so  sharply 
as  that. 

I  crossed  the  street  to  the  Protestant  school  and  entered 
into  conversation  with  the  teacher  there.  He  grievously 
complained  of  the  opposition  establishment  over  the  way,  and 
spoke  feelingly  of  the  reduction  which  it  had  effected  in  his 
daily  attendance. 

"The  worst  of  it  is,  sir,  we  discovered  that  the  young 
rascals  used  to  come  here  to  us  in  tlie  morning  and  take  our 
breakfast,  and  then  make  off  across  the  street  to  the  nuns." 

"  Did  you  then  strike  them  off  the  roll  ?" 

"We  daren't,  but  we  tried  to  identify  the  individual  pupils 
who  so  acted,  and  stopped  their  breakfast  on  them.  How- 
ever, we  have  come  upon  a  plan  now  which  baffles  tliem 
comj)letely." 

"What  is  that?" 

*'  Why,  sir,  we  don't  give  the  breaJcfast  till  school  and 
Scripture  class  are  over,  at  three  o'clock  !" 

For  many  years  the  Protestant  clergy  and  laity  held  entirely 
aloof  from  the  national  schools.  They  would  not  countenance 
a  system  of  popular  education  that  was  not  religious  and 


''THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  £7 

scriptural.  At  all  events  a  school  without  an  open  Bible — 
one  in  which  the  Bible  w^ould  be  padlocked  and  un padlocked 
at  certain  hours — they  would  not  have.  If  M'ith  some  of 
them  the  objection  partook  of  regret  that  opportunity  for 
effecting  conversions  among  the  Catholics  would  be  so  far 
given  up,  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  on  the  other 
hand  with  the  bulk  of  the  Protestant  clergy  and  laity  it  pro- 
ceeded from  an  upright  conscientious  principle,  and  had  refer- 
ence solely  or  mainly  to  consideration  for  the  youth  of  their 
own  communion.  Many  overtures  Avere  made,  many  nego- 
tiations tried,  for  a  long  time  in  vain,  to  secure  their  adhesion. 
One  great  stumbling-block  for  them  was  a  rule  which  forbade 
the  teacher  to  allow  a  pupil  while  at  school  to  be  present  at 
religious  instruction  different  from  the  creed  in  which  he  was 
entered  on  the  school  register,  unless  the  pupil  Avas  so  present 
with  his  parents'  ascertained  permission.  The  Protestant 
clergyman,  otherwise  disposed  to  work  with  the  national 
Board,  stopped  invincibly  at  this  point.  "  My  ordination 
vows,"  he  said,  "  and  my  own  sense  of  duty  forbid  me  to  take 
any  one  by  the  shoulder  and  remove  him,  lest  he  should  hear 
me  preach  the  gospel.  I  am  quite  ready  to  say  that  I  will 
not  compel  any  pupil  in  ray  school,  if  under  the  Board,  to  be 
so  present,  let  him  absent  himself  if  he  will ;  but  if  he  be 
present  I  shall  certainly  not  turn  him  off." 

The  Education  Board  on  its  part  pleaded  that  it  was  upon 
the  faith  that  their  children  ran  no  risk  or  chance  whatever 
of  being  present  at  religious  teachings  not  their  own,  within 
the  school,  that  the  masses  of  the  Irish  people  had  been  in- 
duced to  come  into  the  system.  From  1844  to  1847  this 
controversy  went  on,  the  correspondence  on  behalf  of  the 
Protestant  clergy  being  most  ably  conducted  by  the  late 
Archdeacon  Stopford,  of  Meath,  and  in  September,  1847,  the 
following  compromise  was  eventually  arranged  between  him 
and  the  Board : 


28  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

Thenceforth  no  teacher  need  prevent  a  child  from  being 
present  at  religious  instruction  contrary  to  his  registered 
creed;  but  whenever  a  pupil  was  for  the  first  time  so  present, 
the  teacher  was  to  send  to  the  parent  a  filled-up  printed  ticket 
notifying  that  fact.  On  this  new  rule — popularly  known 
as  "  the  Stopford  Rule" — a  large  section  of  the  episcopalian 
Protestant  clergy  and  nearly  all  of  the  Presbyterians  came  in ; 
but  at  exactly  the  same  point,  and  on  the  same  ground,  there 
burst  forth  that  complaint  of  broken  faith  and  demand  for 
denominational  capitation  grants  which  the  Catholics  have 
ever  since  been  pressing  so  vehemently. 

Such  was  in  brief  the  early  history,  such  the  rise  and 
progress,  of  the  national  education  system  in  Ireland. 

It  was  not  till  ten  or  twelve  years  after  the  actual  date  of  its 
establishment  that  even  the  first  faint  signs  of  its  work  became 
noticeable  outside  the  school-door  threshold.  But  those  who 
moved  among  the  people,  or  narrowly  watched  the  phases  of 
their  life,  began  as  early  as  1845  to  note  by  a  thousand  symp- 
toms that  "the  schoohnaster  was  abroad."  From  1845  to 
the  present  day  the  national  schools  have  been  turning  out  a 
yearly  crop  of  thousands,  yea,  tens  of  thousands,  of  youth. 
The  average  standard  of  proficiency  attained,  especially  in 
rural  districts,  is  even  still  very  low,  owing  to  the  short  and 
broken  periods  for  which  children  are  allowed  to  attend 
school  rather  than  help  to  earn  for  home  by  work  in  the 
fields.  But,  slight  as  the  actual  achievement  may  be  in  a 
strictly  educational  point  of  view,  socially  and  politically 
considered,  nothing  short  of  a  revolution  has  been  etfected. 
There  is  now  scarcely  a  farm-house  or  working-man's  home 
in  all  the  land  in  which  the  boy  or  girl  of  fifteen,  or  the 
young  man  or  woman  of  twenty-five,  cannot  read  the  news- 
paper for  ''  the  old  people,"  and  transact  their  correspondence. 
Our  amusing  friend  the  parish  letter-writer  has  almost  disap- 
peared.   His  occupation  is  gone.    For  public  news  the  peasant 


''THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD."  29 

no  longer  relies  on  the  Sunday  gossip  after  mass.  For  politi- 
cal views  Ite  is  n^  longer  absolutely  dependent  on  the  advice 
and  guidance  of  Father  Tom.  He  may  never  find  counsellor 
more  devoted  and  faithful;  the  political  course  he  may  now 
follow  may  be  more  rash  or  more  profitable,  more  wise  or  more 
wrong;  but  for  good  or  ill  it  will  be  his  own.  He  will  still, 
indeed,  trust  largely  to  those  whom  he  judges  worthy  of  his 
confidence,  and  largely  follow  their  lead ;  but  not  in  the  same 
way  as  of  yore. 

Not  all  at  once  will  one  perceive  how  many  and  how  vast 
are  the  changes  which  flow  from  these  altered  circumstances. 
It  is,  I  repeat,  nothing  less  than  a  revolution  tliat  the  humble 
little  thatch-roofed  national  school — or,  let  me  more  accu- 
rately say,  the  national  school  supplemented  by  a  cheap  popu- 
lar literature — has  effected  in  Ireland.  Political  leadership, 
in  the  sense  in  which  it  prevailed  in  our  fathers'  time,  is  gone 
forever, — would  be  simply  impossible  now.  And  with  the 
old-time  leadership  of  one  magnificent  genius,  or  one  well- 
trusted  class,  there  have  also  disappeared  many  of  the  old- 
time  modes  and  habits  of  political  life  and  action.  It  is 
utterly  astonishing  how  few  persons  seem  to  realize  or  to  have 
noticed  these  changes  so  palpably  though  so  silently  wrought 
under  their  very  eyes  during  the  last  thirty  years.  Every 
day  we  hear  some  one  whose  memory  dwells  ardently  on  the 
period  of  Reform  or  Emancipation  or  Repeal,  telling  us  what 
should  be  done  now,  and  how  done,  because  it  was  done,  and 
so  done,  then.  As  well  might  he_  tell  us  of_the_Jimea>_of 
Brian  Boru.  Be  itjfor  better  or  be  it  for  worse,  a  new 
Ireland  has  arisen  since  then. 


3* 


CHAPTER    III. 

O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL. 

The  prominent  figure,  the  leading  character,  in  Irish  life 
five-and-thirty  years  ago  was  Daniel  O'Connell.  As  we  look 
back  upon  that  period  we  see  his  great  form  flung  upon  the 
Irish  sky  like,  that  of  some  Titan  towering  above  the  race  of 
men. 

In  Ireland  he  is  fondly  styled  "  the  Liberator ;"  in  Eng- 
land known  as  the  "  Irish  Agitator."  In  Rome  his  memory 
is  held  in  benediction  as  that  of  a  "  champion  of  the  Church." 
Hardly  yet,  long  as  he  has  lain  in  the  national  mausoleum  at 
Glasnevin,  have  prejudice  and  passion  ceased  to  struggle  over 
his  bier  and  allowed  him  to  be  dispassionately  contemplated 
as  an  historical  character. 

No  man  can  4^6  named  who  at  any--ttm€-Mt  Irish  affairs 
attained-teusiichpopularity  as  that  which  was  O'Connell's  in 
1844,  when  he  mayHGe  said  to  have  reached  the  zenith  of  his 
power.  Like  other  master  characters  in  history,  he  carved  out 
his  own  career,  and  attained  to  eminence  by  virtuj_of.his  own 
strong  will,  by.the-fore^-of  commanding  genius'.  He  inherited 
no  lordly  title ;  he  succeeded  to  no  great  territorial  influence. 
He  belonged  to  an  ancient  and  honored  Celtic  family  in  West 
Kerry,  and  was  expectant  heir  to  an  uncle — "  Old  Hunting- 
Cap" — who  would  have  left  him  considerable  means  had 
the  future  tribune  not  married  for  love  and  displeased  the 
wealthy  old  squire.  He  entered  the  Irish  bar.  It  is  a  sin- 
gular fact  that  the  only  men  who  within  the  last  hundred 
years  became  really  great  popular  leaders  in  Ireland  were 
barristers,  who  first  won  popular  confidence  and  popular  in- 
30 


O' CONN  ELL  AND   REPEAL.  31 

fluence  by  their  forensic  abilities ;  namely,  Daniel  O'Connell 
and  Isaac  Butt.  The  bar,  in  any  country  possessing  such  an 
institution,  must  always  to  a  great  extent  contribute  "  leaders 
of  public  opinion."  From  its  ranks  are  most  likely  to  come, 
unless  abnormal  influences  prevail,  the  men  most  able  to  plead 
and  press  a  public  cause.  In  Ireland,  however,  there  have 
been  greater  and  exceptional  reasons  to  bring  the  advocate 
into  the  forefront  as  the  political  leader.  The  man  who  could 
"run  a  coach-and-four  through  any  act  of  Parliament,"  as 
O'Connell  boasted  he  could  do,  who  could  put  down  the  At- 
torney-General and  baffle  the  Crown,  who  was  ready  to  take 
the  brief  of  the  weak  against  the  strong,  to  compel  justice 
for  the  poor,  was  inevitably  marked  out  for  poiDoilarity  among 
a  people  like  the  Irish.  His  skill,  his  learning,  his  eloquence, 
his  ingenuity,  were  all  tested,  exhibited,  and  proved  before 
their  eyes.  ]\Ioreover,  in  no  generation  has  Ireland  been 
without  the  exciting  spectacle  of  State  trials  or  political  pros- 
ecutions. The  accused  stepped  from  the  dock  to  the  scaffold, 
from  the  cell  to  the  convict-ship,  bequeathing  names  and 
memories  destined  to  immortality  in  rustic  ballad  or  fireside 
story,  and  the  advocate  who  defended  them,  especially  if  sup- 
posed to  sympathize  with  them,  became  a  hero. 

When  one  speaks  of  O'Connell's  popularity,  however,  a 
qualification  or  distinction  needs  to  be  noted.  It  was  almost 
exclusively  confined  to^one  section  of  the  nation,  though  no 
doubt,  counting  heads,  that  was  the  overwhelming  prepon- 
derance of  the  nation.  Not  only  was  O'Connell  wjipopular 
with  the  Irish  Protestants,  he  w^  absolntely  n  Jerror  to 
them.  Many  other  Irish  national  leaders  before  his  time,  in 
his  time,  and  since,  might  be  named  whose  following  was 
somewhat  distributed  through  the  various  sections,  creeds, 
and  classes  of  Irishmen  ;  notably  Henry  Grattan,  John  Mar- 
tin, and  Isaac  Butt.  But  to  the  Protestants  of  his  day 
O'Connell  seemed  a  combination  of  Guy  Fawkes,  the  Pre- 


32  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

tender,  and  the  Pope  of  Rome.  While  his  trial  was  proceed- 
ing, or  rather  concluding,  in  1844,  an  old  gentleman  named 
Ffolliott — a  good  type  of  the  stanch  old  Tory  gentleman 
of  that  day  in  Ireland — lay  dying  in  a  southern  county. 

"  Do  you  rest  all  your  hopes  on  the  merits  of  your  Saviour, 
Mr.  Ffolliott?"  said  the  rector,  who  stood  by  his  bedside. 

"  Yes,  I  do,  all,"  murmured  the  dying  man. 

"  And  are  you  directing  all  your  thoughts  at  this  moment 
to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  ^Ir.  Ffolliott  ?" 

"  And  nowhere  else." 

"Above  all,  I  trust  you  forgive  every  one,  and  feel  at  peace 
with  all  men  ?" 

"  With  all  mankind,"  responded  the  genial  old  fox-hunter. 

There  was  a  solemn  pause. 

"  Mr.  Halliday,"  he  half  whispered,  "  is  the  Dublin  mail 
in  yet  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  about  an  hour  ago." 

The  dying  man  roused  himself  instantly,  and  with  sharp 
eagerness  asked,  "  How  about  the  trials  ?  Is  O'Connell 
convicted  ?" 

"  Found  guilty,  sir." 

"  Thanks  be  to  God  !"  was  the  last  pious  ejaculation  of  the 
worthy  old  squire. 

All  this  love  and  confidence,  all  this  fear  and  hatred,  had 
been  earned  by  O'Connell  in  his  "  Emancipation"  career, 
which  extended  from  1810,  when  he  may  be  said  to  have 
entered  public  life,  to  1829,  when  he  vanquished  utterly  and 
completely  the  hostile  power  of  the  Peel- Wellington  Gov- 
ernment. From  1830  to  1840  he  was  engaged  in  the  scarcely 
less  important  struggles  which  ensued  on  the  Tithe  question 
and  Municipal  Reform, — corollaries,  so  to  speak,  of  Catholic 
Emancipation. 

On  the  subject  of  Repeal  O'Connell's  first  public  speech 
was  delivered ;  and  this  question,  not  Catholic  Emancipation, 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  33 

attracted  his  earliest  sympathies.  To  many  eai's  the  state- 
ment will  sound  strange  and  startling,  but  JljsJiistQiicaLiact, 
that  at  that  time  tJif  nltm-Prntpstnnt  and  Tory  party  in  Ire- 
land were  jfche  great  agitators  for  Repeni  of  thp  Union.  The 
anti-Union  resolutions  of^thaXixange  lodges  would  filjjages 
of  print.  The  Protestant  bankers  and  merchants  of  Dublin 
vied  with  the  Protestant  nobility  and  gentry  of  the  provinces 
in  denouncing  the  Union.  Never  for  a  moment  did  its  effect- 
uation cause  an  altered  view  of  the  transaction.  As  there 
was  no  disguise  made  of  the  heavy  sums  paid  for  the  votes 
requisite  to  secure  a  ministerial  majority,  the  people  viewed 
the  transaction  very  much  as  New,  York  citizens  regarded  a 
"  presentment"  of  Tweed's  grand  jury,  thirteen  of  wliom  he 
kept  iiLhis  pay, — a  bold  and  successful  fraud  in  the  guise  of 
law.  The  Catholics  at  this  time  could  hardly  be  said  to  be 
participants  in  general  political  affairs  :  still,  although  their 
bishops*  were  more  tiian  suspected  of  Unionist  sentiments, 
the  feelings  of  the  general  body  were  enthusiastically  with 
their  Protestant  fellow-countrymen.  The  movement  for  Re- 
peal of  the  Union  was  really  begun  in  1810  by  a  requisi- 
tion from  the  Grand  Jjirors^fJDiihliiL  to  the  High  Sheriffs, 
Sir  Edward  Stanley  and  Sir  James  Riddall,  calling  upon 
them  to  convene  a  public  meeting  of  "  the  freemen  and  free- 
holders of  Dublin"  for  the  purpose  of  petitioning  Parliament 
to  repeal  the  hateful  aiid  uijurioiia_acL__At_this  meeting,  held 
on  the  18th  of  September,  18Ji),_lli&-ultra-Protestant  and 
Tory  merchants  and  gentry  of  Dublin  launched  the  move- 
ment which  O'Connell,  tlij^ty  yaaj^a-^ftpr^  rngde  hjs  own. 

How  then,  it  may  be  asked,  did  the  question  happen  to 
lose  its   strongly  Protestant  character?     How   did   young 


*  Pitt  had  promised  them  that  Catholic  Emancipation  should  be  one 
of  the  first  acts  passed  in  the  Imperial  Parliament ;  but  of  course  the 
promise  was  not  fulfilled. 
c 


34  ^ElV  IRELAND. 

O'Connell  and  his  co-religionists  come  to  devote  themselves 
first  to  Emancipation  rather  than  Repeal  ? 

O'Connell  often  subsequently  expressed  his  regret  that  he 
and  they  had  not,  in  1810,  thrown  themselves  to  the  side  of 
the  Protestant  Repealers,  and  looked  for  Emancipation  to  an 
Irish  rather  than  to  an  imperial  legislature.  "Restore  the 
penal  laws,  if  you  will ;  but  repeal  the  Union,"  was  his 
vehement  exclamation  in  after-years.  But  in  1810  the  Irish 
Catholics  had  abundant  offers  of  assistance  for  Emancipation 
from  a  powerful  party  in  the  imperial  Parliament ;  while  in 
that  assembly  no  party  would  help  either  Protestant  or  Cath- 
olic Irishmen  with  Repeal.  The  consideration  was  strongly 
attractive  to  strive  first  for  what  was  nearest  at  hand  or  was 
most  practicable  of  attainment.  The  English  Liberal  party 
persuaded  the  Irish  Catlio  lie  leaders  to  go  for  Emancipation, 
which  was  "  already  half  carried,"  and  in  which  they  could 
aid  them.  "  First  gain  equality  as  citizens,"  said  persuasive 
counsellors,  "and  then,  if  you  will,  use  your  powers  as  free 
men  to  co-operate  with  your  Protestant  fellow-countrymen  in 
their  efforts  for  Repeal."  In  this  view  O'Connell  acquiesced. 
He  little  thought  that  amidst  the  fierce  fires  of  the  struggle 
for  religious  equality  the:"^pfestant  movement  for  Repeal 
was  to  disappear !  When  Emancipation  was  won,  when  the 
^ithe  grTevan?!&-was  moderated,  and  the  Protestant  rector  no 
more  went  forth  with  armed  men  to  seize  "  every  tenth  sheaf" 
from  the  Catholic  peasants'  haggard,  when  the  municipal 
corporations  of  the  country  were,  like  Parliament  itself, 
opened  to  Catholics,  and  citizenship  was  at  length  secured, 
O'Connell  felt  that  the  time  had  come  for  a  still  greater 
question  than  any  of  these, — one  upon  which  he  fondly,  but 
erroneously,  imagined  he  could  unite  Catholic  and  Protestant 
Irishmen.  He  looked  around  for  the^Regeal  Protestants; 
butthey  were  gone. 

There  was  no  avoiding  the  determination  which  he  then 


O' CON  NELL  AND   REPEAL.  35 

adopted, — to  take  into  his  own  hands  the  banner  which  the 
Protestant  chiefs  had  flung  down.  Although  a  study  of  all 
the  circumstances,  by  the  light  of  subsequent  experience, 
shows  us  that  the  leader  who  won  Catholic  Emancipation 
could  not  have  been  the  man  to  carry  Repeal,  no  other  course 
w^as  honorably  open  to  O'Connell  and  the  Irish  Catholics. 
Had  they  adopted  as  their  motto  "  E.est  and  be  thankful," 
having  won  religious  rights,  had  they  stopped  there,  the 
Protestants  would  be  able  forever  to  taunt  them  with  having 
belied  the  solemn  declarations  of  1810,  which  pledged  them 
to  consecrate  their  first  eiforts  as  free  men  to  the  non-sectarian 
question  of  a  national  legislature.  "  These  Catholics,"  it 
would  be  said,  "  think  only  of  their  Church.  Having  freed 
their  Church,  they  are  satisfied,  and  leave  their  country  to 
shift  for  itself." 

When  he  launched  his  Repeal  agitation,  O'Connell  strove 
hard  to  propitiate  Irish  Protestantism ;  but  he  strove  in 
vain.  He  saw  but  too  well  that  in  the  new  struggle  there 
must  be  a  blending  of  creeds;  that  the  movement  must  be 
national  not  sectional,  or  it  would  fail.  But  it  became  plain 
that  the  very  circumstances  that  gave  to  him  his  unrivalled 
power  with  the  masses  fatally  disqualified  him  here.  The 
time  was  all  too  near  a  struggle  so  desperate  and  bitter  as 
that  in  which  he  and  his  despised  "  Popish  bog-trotters"  had 
vanquished  the  haughty  Protestant  aristocracy  of  the  island. 
When  they  saw  the  man  who  had  stormed  and  carried  the 
strongholds  of  exclusive  Protestant  power  coming  forward 
at  last  to  claim  the  restoration  of  the  Irish  parliament 
(though  a  claim  which,  the^rtheltreelves  had  been  most  vehe- 
mently raising  previously),  they  went  frantic  with  alarm. 
"  He  now,'^'fh?y-crted7^vants  a  Popish  parliament,  to  doom 
us  all  to  the  gibbet  and  stake !"  And  so,  for  the  first  time 
in  tlieir  history,  they  became  Unionists,  througlf  lear  of 
"  Dan  O'Connell  and  the^Pope."  


36  iV£ir  IRELAND. 

O'Connell  soon  found  how  great  a  change  tliirty  or  forty 
years  had  made  in  the  attitude  of  parties  and  the  bearing  of 
public  questions.  In  1805  or  1810,  or  even  in  1820,  it  was 
but  a  comparatively  short  and  easy  step  to  revert  to  the 
familiar  institution,  so  recently  overthrown,  of  King,  Lords, 
and  Commons  of  Ireland.  "  Repeal"  meant  simply  the  re- 
peal of  an  act  of  Parliament  a  few  years  old, — a  proceeding 
which  would  replace  things  as  they  stood,  as  it  were,  but 
yesterday.  Xo  new  machinery  would  be  needed.  It  was 
merely  that  once  more,  as  before,  the  Viceroy  would  proceed 
in  state  from  Dublin  Castle  to  the  Parliament  House  in  Col- 
lege Green,  and  read  the  royal  speech  to  the  peers  and  com- 
moners of  Ireland.  A  few  years  of  illegal  interregnum 
would  be  forgotten  in  the  general  joy.  Everything  would 
go  on  as  it  did  previously.  There  would  be  the  same  fran- 
chises, the  same  representation,  the  same  forms,  the  same 
domestic  and  international  relations. 

But  after  forty  years  had  passed,  it  was  found  this  could 
not  be  said.  Things  had  happened  in  the  interval  which 
rendered  a  return  to  the  old  arrangements,  pure  and  simple, 
an  impossibility.  The  very  reforms  which  O'Connell  had 
been  throughout  those  forty  years  laboring  to  accomplish 
forbade  a  restoration  of  the  old  forms  and  institutions. 
Catholic  Emancipation  enabled  Catholics  to  sit  in  Parlia- 
ment ;  whereas  in  the  Irish  legi_slature-QQ»o  but  Erotestants 
coiuld  harVfc-a>4ilace.  The  Reform  Bill  of  1832  revolution- 
ized the  old  franchise  and  representative  systems ;  and  elec- 
tions to  an  Irish  parliament  on  any  but  the  new  ones  would 
be  out  of  the  question.  It  was  clear  that  new  arrangements 
would  have  to  be  made;  that  a  mere  repeal  of  the  Union 
Act,  throwing  things  back  upon  their  old  forms  of  existence, 
would  be  absurd,  if  not  impracticable. 

O'Connell's  demand,  therefore,  meant  a  great  deal  more 
than  Repeal ;  for  he  claimed  not  merely  to  annul  the  Act 


O'CONNELL  AND   REPEAL.  37 

of  Union,  but  to  supplant  or  supplement  the  ancient  forms 
and  franchises,  checks  and  counterchecks,  by  the  important 
changes  which  an  imperial  legislature  had  in  the  interval 
decreed  and  effected.  This  gave  the  Government  a  clever 
advantage  in  argument.  "  In  an  exclusively  Protestant 
Irish  parliament,"  they  said,  "  England,  as  a  Protestant 
country,  had  a  certain  amount  of  security  for  the  connec- 
tion; but  under~a"newlirrangement,  to  allow  the  pre- Union 
powers  to  an  Irish  parliament  predominantly  Catholic  would 
afford  no  such  guarantee."  In  any  case  the  Government 
party  would  have  resisted  the  demand  for  Repeal ;  but  this 
demand  for  Repeal  and  something  more  they  were  sure  to 
combat  with  all  the  greater  determination. 

O'Connell  felt  the  difficulty,  and  vainly  sought  to  parry 
it  by  declaring  he  would  be  satisfied  that  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion should  be  undone  if  it  stood  in  the  way;  but  this  was 
not  to  be  seriously  entertained.  One  caii  hardly  credit  that 
the  Catholics  would  submit  to  it.  He  had  only  to  push  on 
with  his  agitation  as~T)e5t  he  could,  laying  absurd  otrooG  on 
what  he  called  "the  golden  link  of  the  crown,"  and  claiming 
that  the  two  parliaments  (Irish  and  British)  would  soon  come 
to  an  amicable  arrangement  on  all  points  of  common  interest. 
Perhaps  they  might;  perhaps  they  might  not.  The  im- 
perialists, however,  were  not  likely  to  commit  themselves  to 
the  hazard  of  what  a  predominantly  Catholic  Irish  parlia- 
ment might  or  might  not  do  with  powers  as  wide  or  vague 
as  those  2)ossessed  by  the  Protestant  Irish  parliament  of 
1782. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  had  O'Connell  adopted  the 
course  taken  by  the  Home  Rulers  of  1870,  and  proposed 
those  international  arrangements,  compromises,  adjustments, 
and  guarantees  explicitly  beforehand,  lie  would  have  consider- 
ably allayed  the  apprehensions  and  disarmed  the  hostility 
which    so  invincibly  encountered    his    movement.      At  one 

4 


38  ^EW  IRELAND. 

time  he  intijnated  his  intention  of  doing  so ;  but  the  popular 
feeling  in  favor  of  the  old  name  and  the  old  form  of  the 
national  demand  seemed  too  strong.  He  feared  to  let  the 
people  think  he  meant  to  abate  a  jot  of  his  claim  for  "  Re- 
peal," i.e.,  Repeal  jj/us  Catholic  Emancipation  and  Electoral 
and  Corporate  Reform ;  but  from  that  hour  he  must  have 
felt  that  he  was  fighting  on  the  wrong  line  and  at  fatal  disad- 
vantage. 

The  affection  and  gratitude  of  the  Irish  people  for  "  the 
Liberator" — and  well  he  earned  both  at  their  hands — will 
not  allow  much  freedom  in  criticising  his  plans  or  his  policy, 
his  conduct  or  his  character.  In  that  character  there  were 
some  features  and  elements  that  would  not  command  admira- 
tion in  these  later  days,  but  which  nevertheless  went  to  make 
up  his  qualifications  for  the  task  he  undertook.  He  was  the 
man  for  his  age  and  time,  the  man  for  the  special  work  and 
mission  which  he  was  assigned  to  fulfil.  In  many  respects 
he  would  be  sadly  out  of  place  in  the  public  life  of  1877 ; 
but  no  man  of  1877  could  accomplish  the  hei'culean  labors 
of  his  career.  True  greatness  of  soul  and  courage  indomi- 
table alone  could  have  carried  him  through  the  difficulties 
which  he  cheerfully  faced  and  triumphantly  encountered. 
Forlorn  indeed  were  the  fortunes  of  the  Irish  Catholics  when, 
surrendering  brillian_t_ professional  prospects  and  sacrificing 
every  other  ambition,  he  devoted  his  life  to  the  formidable 
enterprise  of  effecting  their  redemption.  When  he  entered 
public  affairs,  and  for  a  long  time  afterwards,  he  M'as  the 
object  of  dislike  and  hostility  on  the  part  of  manv  of  the 
Catholic  prelates  and  most  of  the  Catholic  gentry  in  Ireland. 
They  denounced  hini  as  a  "  demagogue?*  Again  and  again 
our  "  upper  class"  Catholics  assured  the  Government  of  the 
day  and  the  people  of  England  that  the  "  extreme"  ideas  of 
violent  agitators  about  Emancipation  were  to  them,  as  mod- 
erate men  and  loyal  citizens,  positively  distressing.     A  hun- 


O'CONNELL  AND   REPEAL.  39 

dred  years  and  more  of^the  Penal  Code  had  done  its  work 
with  these_meU;___Theytrenibled  lest  new  commotions  might 
wrest  from  them  the  comparativeToferance  they  now  enjoyed. 
"  Your  Grace  will,  I  hope,  not  deem  me  accountable  for  the 
foolishness  of  those  who  address  me  as  '  My  Lord,' "  wrote  a 
Catholic  archbishop  of  O'Connell's  time  to  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington. Leave  to  live  seemed  a  great  deal  to  men  whose 
youth  had  seen  the  "  discoverer"  and  the  "  priest-hunter"  at 
work.*  ~-^ 

*  "  Discoverers"  were  men  who  prowled  through  the  country  seeking 
out  grounds  for  the  filing  of  "bills  of  discovery,"  as  thej'  were  called, 
against  Papists  Jiolding  prnjiprty,  or  n, gainst  Protestants  who  held  lands 
in  secret  trust  for  Papist.  npio-}i|>ors.  It  is  said  the  ancestral  estates  of 
the  Bryans  of  Jenkinstown,  a  prominent  and  wealthy  Catholic  family, 
were  preserved  from  confiscation  throughout  the  whole  of  the  eighteenth 
century  by  the  chivalrous  honor  and  fiilelity  of  the  Marquises"  of  Or- 
monde, who  were  Protestants.  These  held  the  title-deeds  in  their  own 
names  from  father  to  son  through_a  hundredyears,  secretlyhanding  over 
the  rents,  until  the  Bryans  at  last  were  free  by  law  openly  to  hold  and 
enjoy  their  broad  domains.  It  was  in  this  way,  by  the  noble  conduct 
of  individual  Protestants  in  an  age  of  dreadful  edicts^  that  nearly  every 
acre  of  ancient  Catholic  estates,  of  any  that  survive  to  our  time,  was 
saved  to  the  "  Popish"  proprietors. 

"  Priest-hunters"  were  a  class  who  made  a  livelihood  by  earning  the 
rewards  for  hunting  up  concealed  priests.  The  western  and  northern 
counties  of  Ireland  abounded  thirty  years  ago  with  the  traditions  of 
these  priest-hunts.  In  my  own  native  district  every  tourist  to  Glen- 
garifie  is  shown  the  Priest's  Leap  Mountain,  or  "  Leam-a-thagart." 
Here,  according  to  local  tradition,  which  had  no  more  pious  and  awe- 
struck believer  than  myself,  a  great  miracle  was  wrought.  A  holy 
priest,  who  had  long  eluded  the  search  of  those  who  sought  his  blood, 
was  riding  along  a  lonely  bridle-path  which  still  exists,  when  he  was 
suddenly  confronted  by  the  "  Shanna  soggarth."  "Aha!  your  rever- 
ence, I  have  you  at  last,"  laughed  the  pursuer.  But  the  priest,  taking 
out  his  breviary,  read  three  words  in  Latin,  and  struck  spurs  into  the 
horse,  which  sprang  through  the  air  and  never  came  down  till  he  reached 
Donemark  Wood,  six  miles  distant,  where  the  mark  of  his  knees  and  of 
the  priest's  thumb  and  four  fingers  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the  rock  on 
which  he  alighted.     Many  a  time  and  oft  I  have  seen  these  proofs  of  the 


40  ^EW  IRELAND. 

O'Connell,  whose  eloquence  was  massive  and  rugged,  some- 
times coarse^  and  rarely  classical,  answered  back  the  Catholic 
aristocracy  with  vituperation  and  scorn  for  their  slavishness 
and  cowardice.  The  bishops  he  studiously  passed  by.  He  had 
at  his  back  a  few  of  the  Catholic  gentry,  nearly  all  the  Cath- 
olic mercantile  and  middle  classes,  many  of  the  secular  or 
parochial  clergy,  and  the  religious  orders  to  a  man.  As  for 
the  humbler  classes,  it  is  hardly  an  exaggeration  to  say  that 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  was  ready  to  die  for  him. 

Some  of  his  most  distinguished  colleagues  of  the  Emanci- 
pation campaign  (notably  Richard  Lalor  Shell)  refused  to  fol- 
low him  into  the  Repeal  movement.  Others,  largely  from 
personal  devotion  as  well  as  political  conviction,  kept  their 
places  by  his  side.  It  was  tame  work,  however,  some  of  them 
protested,  compared  with  the  "  old  times,"  when  after  every 
banquet  or  public  meeting  there  was  generally,  somehow,  an 
invitation  to  "meet"  some  one  in  "the  Ei£teen_Acres,  be  the_ 
same  more  or  less."  O'Connell,  after  the  fatal  encounter  in 
which  he  shot  D'Esterre,  made  and  kept  a  solemn  vow  never 
more  to  send  "or  accept  a  challenge, — a  circumstance  which 
had  a  powerful  influence  in  banishing  political  duelling  from 
Ireland.  This  non-combatant  style  of  agitation  was  viewed 
with  great  disgust  by  such  men  as  the  O'Grorman  Mahon,  M'ho 
had  been  "  out"  no  less  than  tliirteen  times.  O'Connell  one 
day,  at  the  Repeal  Association,  delivered  a  speech  in  reply  to 
a  political  attack  designed  to  bring  about  a  "  message,"  in 
which  he  reaffirmed  his  resolution  to  accept  no  challenge 
during  the  rest  of  his  life ;  making  at  the  same  time  some 
exceedingly  pious  observations  on  the  sinfulness  of  the  prac- 
tice he  had  relinquished.  "  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  the  O'Gor- 
man  Mahon,  when  O'Connell  had  sat  down,  "  I  think  it  may 


story,  and  I  do  not  greatlj^  rejoice  in  the  day  when  I  realized  that  the 
rain-drip  from  an  aged  oak  had  worn  those  marks  in  the  stone. 


O' CON  NELL  AND  REPEAL.  41 

be  useful  to  state  that  /  have  made  no  such  resolution :  God 
forbid !"  * 

In  the  course  of  O'Connell's  career  there  first  appeared  in 
the  Irish  political  arena  a  figure,  an  element  of  force,  which 
more  than  any  other  has  excited  the  English  imagination, — 
"  the  Irisli  priest  in  politics."  That  figure,  as  we  beheld  it 
some  thirty  years  ago,  will  henceforth  be  seen  no  more.  Not 
one  of  all  the  wondrous  changes  which  time  has  wrought 
marks  more  strongly  the  difference  between  the  old  Ireland 

*  About  three  years  ago  we  were  startled  in  Ireland  by  the  reappear- 
ance of  this  typical  veteran  of  the  Emancipation  and  Repeal  times.  For 
a  quarter  of  a  century  no  one  had  seen  or  heard  of  him ;  when,  lo  !  his 
tall,  soldierly  figure,  bfbad-sliouklered  and  erect  as  an  uplifted  lance, — 
with  snow-white  hair  copiously  flowing  over  his  shoulders, — appeared 
like  a  vision  in  our  midst,  at  the  Home  Rule  Conference  of  1873.  On 
that  occasion  he  was  one  of  a  dozen  guests  dining  with  a  leading  Home 
Rule  member  of  Parliament, — two  Catholic  clergymen  being  of  the 
number.  Our  conversation  turned  on  those  strange  times  when  a  man 
was  liable  any  day  to  be  called  to  meet  death  for  some  fancied  ground 
of  challenge  in  a  political  speech,  and  especially  the  number  of  occasions 
on  which  our  friend  Colonel  the  O'Gorman  Mahon  had  to  face  such  an 
ordeal.  To  do  him  justice,  he  himself  was  rigidly  reticent ;  seemed  not 
to  relish  these  references  to  his  duelling  experiences  at  all.  One  of  the 
clergymen  thought  the  colonel's  feelings  might  have  been  wounded  by 
our  strong  censures  of  duelling,  and  he  proceeded  to  soothe  matters  a 
little  : 

"I  can  well  understand,  however,"  said  he,  "how,  in  a  time  when 
society  enforced  such  a  shoclcing  code,  a  man  might  feel,  as  it  were,  com- 
pelled—left no  choice — when  subjected  to  a  challenge.  Refusal  meant 
disgrace,  social  ostracism.  In  fact,  the  blame  attaching  to  a  man  who, 
not  sending  but  reeeivmg  a  challenge,  went  out  under  this  sense  of  com- 
pulsion, was,  to  say  the  least " 

The  colonel  could  stand  this  no  longer.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  rising 
to  his  feet,  "  I  feel  bound  to  declare  on  my  honor  as  a  gentleman  that 
though,  unfortunately  as  I  may  say,  I  have  been  many  times  a  principal 
in  a  hostile  meeting,  never  once  did  I  receive_a  challenge.  /  always  was 
the  challenger!"  A  roar  of  laughter  at  the  discoml"ture  of  the  reverend 
friend,  who  was,  as  he  thought,  suggesting  a  charitable  excuj^ation  of 
the  colonel,  hailed  the  resentful  disclaimer  of  the  old  camp'aigner. 

4* 


42  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

and  the  new  than  the  altered  attitude,  position,  and  attributes 
of  the  priest  in  politics.  He  has  not  quitted  the  arena.  No 
hostile  action,  no  subsidence  of  confidence,  has  affected  him. 
But  he  stands  in  new — utterly  and  completely  new — relations, 
politically  speaking,  towards  the  people.  Those  who  have 
looked  at  this  historical  character  from  a  distance  have 
strangely  misread  it.  To  Englishmen  the  despotic  power 
wielded  by  the  Irish  priest  in  politics — the  implicit  way  in 
which  the  people  obeyed  and  followed  him — could  but  seem 
a  woful  spectacle  of  clerical  tyranny  on  the  one  hand  and 
slavish  subserviency  on  the  other.  But  that  power  and  that 
obedience  arose  out  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  time; 
and  as  out  of  and  with  them  they  arose,  so  with  them  they 
have  passed  away. 

When  O'Connell,  the  young,  daring,  duel-fighting,  elo- 
quent, and  fearless  lawyer,  took  up  the  cause  of  the  Cath- 
olic serfs,  tiraidity-Q^  selfishness  on  the  part  of  the  few  better- 
classTcrreligionists  had  left  the  people,  so  to  speak,  derelict. 
The  abstract  justice  of  their  cause,  the  cruel  weight  of  their 
fetters,  had  indeed  won  for  them  the  sympathies  of  great  and 
noble  men  in  a  legislature  exclusively  Protestant;  but  they 
were  talked  of  and  pleaded  for  very  much  as  the  negroes 
were  talked  of  and  pleaded  for  by  Wilberforce  or  Horace 
Greeley.  Whether  they  really  were -0£-SEfiES_jiot  jneiu^nd 
brothers  was  a  gr£at.j3art_of  the  question.  What  ought  to 
be  done,  or  might  be  done,  for  them  was  constantly  debated. 
The  man  and  brother  arising  in  his  chains  and  stalking  into 
the  political  arena  to  do  something  for  himself  startled  every 
one  like  a  portentous  apparition. 

What  happened  then  was  exactly  what  would  have  hap- 
pened had  the  Irish  been  Baptists,  Presbyterians,  Methodists, 
or  episcopalian  Protestants  in  the  same  plight,  instead  of 
Catholics.  Usually,  even  in  a  country  where  educjition  and 
political  rights  are  widely  diffused,  the  middle  and  upper 


O'CONNELL  AND  REPEAL.  43 

classes  become  the  political  leaders  of  the  people  around 
them  whose  national  and  religious  sympathies  are  more  or 
less  their  own.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  the  appearance 
of  the  clergyman  as  a  political  leader  in  a  special  and  promi- 
nent way  would,  very  naturally,  be  a  cause  for  wonder.  But 
this  was  not  the  case  with  the  Catholic  masses  in  Ireland  forty 
years  ago.  No  identity  of  feeling,  political  or  religious,  linked 
them  and  the  gentry  class  in  a  community  of  interest.  They 
were  unletfered,  unenfriinchi^d,  bereft  of  the  natural  leaders 
of  a  people.  In  every  parish,  however,  there  was  one  man 
(and  in  many  only  one  man)  of  their  own  way  of  thinking 
who  iiad  education  and  ability,  was  independent  of  Govern- 
ment, and  was  devoted  to  them, — nay,  recommended  to  their 
confidence  by  a  thousand  considerations.  He  was  not  only 
clergyman  and  pastor ;  he  was  local  law-giver  and  arbitrator, 
monitor  and  judge,  counsellor  and  adviser, — the  one  advocate 
and  protector  whose  every  energy ~tKey  well  knew  would 
readily  be  devoted  to  their  weal.  If  haply  in  one  parish 
out  of  ten  there  were  to  be  found  a  Catliolic  or  two  of  the 
gentleman  class,  when  the  novel  idea  of  the  people  moving 
in  political  affairs  was  propounded,  these  propertied  few  cow- 
ered in  alarm,  and  trembled  lest  the  Government  should  be 
angry.  The  priest  was  the  one  man  whom  the  simple  and 
unschooled  but  resolute  peasant  felt  he  might  endow  with  an 
unrestricted  proxy.  Experience  soon  came  to  tell  him  that 
by  implicitly  trusting  and  obeying  this  political  proxy-holder, 
rights  were  won  and  disabilities  swept  away  in  the  devious 
and  difficult  ways  of  public  conflict.  The  priests  themselves, 
who  at  first  very  reluctantly  (and  most  often  despite  the  dis- 
pleasure of  their  pusillanimous  bishops)  assumed  these  new 
functions  and  responsibilities,  began  to  grow  more  bold  and 
confident  under  the  incitements  and  encouragement  of  O'Con- 
nell.  At  length  they  became  the  agency  through  which  he 
organized  and  moved  the  whole  kingdom.    They  thought  for 


44  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

their  flocks ;  acted  and  spoke  for  them ;  told  them  what  to 
do,  and  it  was  done ;  how  to  vote,  and  so  they  voted ;  who  in 
the  big  world  outside  was  their  foe,  and  him  they  hated; 
who  their  friend,  and  him  they  blessed. 

Enormous  was  the  power  thus  thrown  into  the  hands  of  the 
Irish  priests.  The  result  certainly  was  not  all  unmixed  good. 
Abuses  inevitably  came.  In  some  cases,  few  indeed,  the  pos- 
session of  such  authority  led  to  arrogance  and  despotism.  In 
others  its  exercise  was  so  mingled  with  what  was  of  spiritual 
character,  that  evils  of  no  small  magnitude  arose  to  the  view 
of  thoughtful  politicians  looking  on.  Yet  must  impartial 
judgment  declare  that  never  in  political  affairs  was  influence 
so  great,  on  the  whole,  so  unselfishly  and  so  faithfully  used  in 
the  interests  of  those  for  whom  it  was  possessed.  It  was  a 
prerogative  that  could  only  have  arisen  under  abnormal  con- 
ditions of  society  ;  a  power  that  could  not  be  coexistent  with 
widely-diffused  education  and  self-reliant  political  action  on 
the  part  of  the  people.  Necessity  called  it  forth ;  with  neces- 
sity it  disappeared. 

Under  such  circumstances,  sustained  by  such  allies,  O'Con- 
nell,  the  object  of  popular  worship  and  aristocratic  aversion, 
pushed  on  his  agitation.  The  movement,  as  he  shaped  and 
guided  it,  must  inevitably  have  fallen  with  his  own  life,  so 
large  a  part  of  it  was  he.  His  policy  was  to  maintain  in 
Ireland  a  state  of  things  which  was  neither  peace  nor  war; 
that  balked  the  commander-in-chief  and  harassed  the  ]n'ime 
minister.  Strange  to  say,  though  rousing  the  people  to  the  ut- 
most pitch  of  excitement,  the  dominant  anxiety  of  his  soul  was 
to  keep  them  out  of  the  meshes  of  the  law, — to  avert  collision, 
so  that  he,  their  leader,  might  fight  the  law  within  the  law. 
By  such  tactics  he  had  won  Emancipation ;  by  a  "repetition 
of  them  he  hoped  to  carry  Rejieal.  But  the  strain  was  too 
great  on  the  energies  of  a  nation  to  keep  up  a  tension  so 
severe  as  that  which  this  policy  involved.     It  was  politics  at 


0' CON  NELL  AND  REPEAL.  45 

high  pressure,  an  excitement  difficult  to  be  maintained. 
Irishmen  had  not  yet  learned  how  much  superior  to  the 
exertion  of  enthusiasm  is  the  less  demonstrative  but  more 
telling  strength  of  patient  plodding  perseverance. 

O'Connell  again  and  again  promised  his  followers  success 
— absolute  and  infallible  success — on  the  sole  condition  of 
obeying  his  directions,  and,  in  an  hour  of  weakness_or_rash- 
ness,  he  announced  that  "  within  six  months"  Repeal  would 
be  won.  In  that  moment  it  was  all  over  with  O'Connell  and 
Repeal.  Tiie  Government  needed  but  to  tide  over  a  year  or 
two,  and  the  great  tribune  was  discredited,  the  spelTof  his 
influence  broken.  But  they  did  more.  They  boldly  assumed 
the  offensive,  resorting  to  some  steps  which  would  hardly  be 
tolerated  by  public  opinion  in  our  time.  On  the  threshold 
of  the  movement  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  day  announced 
that  no  Repealer  would  be  appointed  to  Government  situa- 
tions. 'Twas  a  k^en  thrust  tliis,  butnot  mortal :  it  had  no 
very  appreciable  eifect.  Later  onTHowever,  came  the  extreme 
course  of  summarily  dismissing  from  the  commission  of  the 
peace  every  county  magistrate  who  identified  himself  in  any 
way  with  Repeal  politics.  To  parry  this  blow,  O'Connell  set 
up  popular  arbitration  courts  all  over  the  kingdom,  leaving 
the  petty  sessions  bench  " high  and  dry."^The  Government 
announced  that  they  were  determined  to  put  down  Repeal ; 
O'Connell  answered  by  defying  them.  He  called  a  monster 
meeting  to  petition  the  Queen  on  the  plains  of  Clontarf,  mem- 
orable as  the  site  of  the  great  battle  in  which  Ard-Ri  Brian  I. 
overthrew  the  Danish  power  in  1014.  The  Government,  in 
the  dusk  of  the  evening  preceding  the  appointed  day,  issued  a 
proclamation  forbidding  the  assemblage,  and  the  hour  of  meet- 
ing found  the  city  occupied  by  horse,  foot,  and  artillery.  By 
streimous  exertions  the  Repeal  leader  and  his  friends  were 
able,  during  the  night  and  morning,  to  intercept  the  tens  of 
thousands  of  people  from  the  surrounding  counties  marching 


46 


KE\r  IRELAND. 


to  the  spot,  where,  had  they  arrived,  a  collision  was  inev- 
itable. O'Connell  charged  the  executive  with  designing  a 
Peterloo  on  a  monster  scale,  and  threatened  to  impeach  Peel, 
Wellington,  and  Earl  de  Grey.  They  retorted  by  dealing 
him  a  still  heavier  blow.  They  arrested  him  and  some  of  his 
principal  associates — his  son,  John  0'Connell4.Chnr1es  Qavan 
Duify,  of~the-J^^f^/ow;  Dr.  Gtay,  of  the  Freeman;  Tom 
'\')Steele;  T.  M.  RayT^^arrett,  of  the  Pilot;  the  Rev.  Mr. 
..V  Tyrrell,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tierney — on  a  charge  of  seditious 
conspiracy.  Eighteen  hundred  and  forty-four — the  "  Repeal 
year,"  as  O'Connell,  six  months  before,  boastfully  said  it 
should  be  called — found  the  great  tribune  a  prisoner  in 
Richmond  jail ! 

In  selecting  the  jury  at  his  trial,  it  was  discovered  that 
^several  leaves  or  slips  of  the  long  panel  list  had  been  lost,  the 
Crown  lawyers  said ;  stolen,  tlie ^traversers  declared.  The 
Attorney-General  contended  that  it  madeTiogceat  mfrttec; 
there  were  names  enough  to  go  on  witli.The^  court  agreed 
with  him  :  the  trial  proceeded,  the  accused  were  found  guilty 
and  sentenced  to  various  fines  and  terms  of  imprisonment. 
A  writ  of  error  was  carried  to  the  House  of  Lords,  mainly 
on  the  point  as  to  the  lost  oc^stokiidips  of  the  jury  list. 
What  the  Irish  judges  solemnly  decided  to  be  trfvi'al  and  im- 
material the  law-l ords^t^ West m i n ster  declared  to  be  all- 
important  and  of  the_yital-^e£fiencej)f_trialJ2y4lLO'-  "  ^^^r^ 
such  things  to  be  allowed,"  Lord  Denman  said,  "  trial  by  jury 
would  become  a  mockfirx?  a  delusion,  and  a  snare."  The 
conviction  was  quashed,  and  O'Connell  and  his  fellow- 
jirisoners  Avere  borne  from  prison  in  a  triumphal  procession 
eclipsing  any  public  demonstration  ever  previously  seen  in 
Ireland. 

So  much  merely  epitomizes  the  history  of  that  eventful 
time.  Behind  and  alongside  of  all  this,  however,  there  were 
causes  and  influences  at  work  which  of  themselves  were  cer- 


O'CONNELL   AND  REPEAL.  47 

tain  to  eventuate  in  important  political  changes.  By  1846  a 
transition  period  had  dawned  in  Irish  politics.  Already  the 
schools  and  the  newspapers  were  beginning  to  make  them- 
selves felt.  O'Connell  became  aware  that  there  was  growing 
up  around  him  a  new  generation,  who  chafed  under  the  benev- 
olent despotism  of  his  leadership,  and  who  objected  to  his 
canon  of  "  implicit  obedieiice,"  unless  they  had  first  reasoned 
out  matters.  He  was  now  an  old  man,  no  longer  the  dashing, 
high-spirited  young  Kerryman  of  Emancipation  days;  he 
trembled  for  the  possible  indiscretions  of  these  fiery  orators 
and  seditiously  patriotic  poets  who  were  rapidly  infusing  their 
bold  spirit  into  the  multitude.  In  his  own  hot  youth  he  could 
praise  Tell  and  Hofer,  and  erstwhile  glow  with  admiration  for 
the  three  hundred  at  Thermopylae.  But,  sore  wounded  by  the 
failure  of  his  promises,  the  defeat  of  his  policy,  and  oppressed 
wnth  gloomy  misgivings  as  to  the  possibility  of  averting  much 
longer  a  collision  between  the  people  and  the  Government, 
he  could  not  endure  these  things  now.  He  called  the  young 
orators  and  poets  the  "  war  .party,"  butjhedid  them  wrong. 
Not  one  of  them,  at  that  date,  dreamt  of  war  or  a  resort  to 
physical  force.  Solicitous  for  the  legal  safety  of  the  Repeal 
Association,  he  drew  up  test  resolutions,  which  impliedly,  if 
not  expressly,  condemned  as  wrongful  any  and  every  effort, 
in  any  age  or  time,  clime  or  country,  to  redress  political  wrongs 
by  armed  resort.  These  resolutions  were  aimed  at  the  men 
already  known  as  the  "  Young  Ireland"  party,  intellectually 
the  flower  of  the  Repeal  movement, — men  whose  genius 
adorned,  and  whose  labors  elevated  and  refined,  Irish  politics. 
They  offered  readily  to  subscribe  such  resolutions  as  applied 
to  their  own  aims  and  purposes;  but  they  refused,  they  said, 
to  stigmatize  the  men  of  other  times  and  other  struggles. 
AVith  this  O'Connell  w^ould  not  be  content,  and  an  expulsion 
or  secession,  destined  to  have  enduring  effects  on  Irish  politics, 
rent  the  Repeal  Association  in  twain. 


48  •  NEW  IRELAND. 

To  the  superficial  view  of  most  English  politicians  all  this 
was  merely  an  "  Irish  row/'  a  political  squabble.  In  like 
events  occurring  in  Belgium  or  Italy  or  France  the  philos- 
ophy of  politics  would  be  studied.  The  supreme  advantages 
which  sometimes  indubitably  attend  the  concentration  of 
political  power  and  authority  in  the  hands  of  one  man  are 
jjurchased  by  heavy  hazards  and  penalties.  When  age  has 
weakened  the  master-mind,  dissidence  becomes  more  and 
more  intolerable,  adulat[qn_jiinr.e  nTid.__more  pleasing  in  liis 
ears.  Obsequiousness  is_ial]ed^delitv ;  honest  independence 
is  suspectedjisjlisloyalty.  The  grand  old  tribune  of  the  Irish 
people,  failing  physically  and  mentally,  became  the  sport  of 
whispered  jealousies  and  suspicions.  Accustomed  to  wield 
unquestioned  authority  and  to  receive  implicit  obedience,  he 
could  see,  under  the  inspirations  then  swaying  him,  in  the 
disciples  of  the  new  school  of  thought  merely  so  many  plot- 
ting aspirants  envious  of  his  throne. 

But  apart  from  all  this  a  calamity  was  now  at  hand  beneath 
which  everything  was  to  go  down.  The  famine  of  1846-47 
swept  the  land  like  a  storm  of  destruction.  At  such  a  mo- 
ment political  agitation  or  political  organization  would  be  as 
much  out  of  place  as  among  the  terrified  occupants  of  a  raft 
or  the  victims  in  a  house  on  fire.  The  wild  scramble  for  life, 
for  mere  existence,  overmastered  every  other  purpose.  It 
seemed  as  if  society  would  be  resolved  into  its  first  elements. 
Aghast,  appalled,  O'Connell  gazed  on  the  ruin  of  the  cause, 
— the  destruction  of  the  people  he  had  given  his  life  to  serve. 
In  the  agony  of  his  soul  he  flung  himself  into  the  one  supreme 
effort  to  save  them.  No  more  he  thundered  defiance.  He 
wept,  he  prayed,  he  cried  aloud,  "  O  God  !  thy  faithful  people 
perish  !"  The  struggle  was  too  much.  The  great  heart  and 
the  grand  brain  gave  way.  Mournfully,  despairingly  the  old 
man  sank  into  the  tomb.  He  had  lived  too  long ;  he  had 
seen  the  wreck  of  all  he  loved.     To  Rome,  to  Rome  he  would 


O'CONNELL  AND   REPEAL.  *  49 

bend  his  way ;  he  would  see  the  successor  of  St.  Peter  and 
visit  the  shrines  of  the  apostles  before  he  might  die.  Not  so 
God  willed  that  it  should  be.  At  "  Genoa  the  Superb"  he 
halted  on  the  way ;  "  to  rest  a  little,"  he  said.  The  attend- 
ants saw  that  his  great  rest  was  at  hand.  On  the  15th  of 
May,  1847,  all  was  over :  the  "  Irish  Liberator"  was  no 
more. 

Gloomy  ending  to  a  gr^at  career !  Concurrence  of  fatalities ! 
One  now  can  see  that  even  before  the  first  shadow  of  famine 
fell  ujjou  the  scene  a  catastrophe  was  inevitable.  The  great 
organization  that  so  largely  embodied  the  national  hopes  and 
purposes  was  virtually  at  an  end.  After  the  Young  Ireland 
secession  the  Government  had  need  no  more  to  concern  itself 
with  its  once  formidable  foe.  O'Connell's  power  in  the  future 
was  broken.  But  nothing  could  take  from  his  brow  the  laurels 
of  the  past.  He  had  played  his  part ;  he  had  nobly  done  his 
allotted  work.  "  I  ought  to  have  fallen  at  Waterloo,"  said 
Napoleon,  regretfully,  at  St.  Helena.  O'Connell  ought  to 
have  died  in  "  Twenty-nine,"  or  perhaps  on  the  great  day  of 
Tara,  in  eighteen  hundred  and  forty-three. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


THE   RIBBON   CONFEDERACY. 


Throughout  the  half-century  extending  from  1820  to 
1870,  a  secret  oath-bound  agrarian  confederacy,  known  as  the 
"  Ribbon  Society,"  was  the  constant  affliction  and  recurring 
terror  of  the~land^(l  classes  ol'  Ireland.  The  Vehmgericht 
itself  was  not  more  dreaded.  The  Maffia  did  not  more  mys- 
teriously baffle  and  defy  supprcssiou^^^^nielorcnir  his  castle, 
the  peasant  in  his  hut,  were  alike  made  to  feel  tlig  existence 
of  its  hateful  power. 

I  think  it  can  be  shown  that  for  more  than  a  hundred  years 
— ever  since  the  commencement  of  the  last  century — secret 
agrarian  confederacies  of  one  sort  or  another  have  existed  in 
Ireland,  all  having  their  source  and  origin  in  the  miseries  and 
feuds  incideataLJo  a  vicious  land_  system.  Few  of  them, 
however,  attained  to  the  dimensions  of  the  Ribbon  Con- 
spiracy; none  of  them  lived  so  long. 

It  is  assuredly  strange — indeed,  almost  incredible — that 
although  the  existence  of  this  organization  was,  in  a  general 
way,  as  well  and  as  M'idely  known  as  the  fact  that  Queen  Vic- 
toria reigned,  or  tliat  Daniel  O'Connell  was  once  a  living  man, 
although  the  story  of  its  crimes  has  thrilled  judge  and  jury, 
and  parliamentary  committees  have  filled  ponderous  blue- 
books  with  evidence  of  its  proceedings,  there  is^to  this  hour 
the  widest  conflict  of  assertion  and  conclusion  as  to  what  ex- 
actly were  its  real  aims,  its  origin,  structure,  character,  and 
pui'pose.  ■"      ■""- 

The  most  prevalent  idea  is  that  it  related  solely  or  mainly 
to  transactions  in  land,  and  was  "  non-political,"  that  is,  had 
50 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  51 

no  design  against  the  Government ;  but  this  impression  can  be 
the  result  of  no  very  special  knowledge  or  investigation  of"  the 
subject.  Whatever  Ribbonism  developed  into  subsequently, 
it  is  the  fact  that  at  an  early  stage  it  was  held  out  to  be  "  jio- 
litical"  ill  the  sense  above  referred  to.  It  would,  perhaps,  be 
more  correct  to  say  that  in  some  parts  of  Ireland,  or  at  some 
period  of  its  existence,  it  professed  to  be  an  organization  of 
that  character;  for  I  long  ago  satisfied  myself  that  the  Rib- 
bonism  of  one  period  was  not  the  Hibbonism  of  another, — 
that  the  version  of  its  aims  and  character  prevalent  among  its 
own  members  in  one  county  or  district  differed  widely  from 
that  existing  elsewhere.  In  Ulster  k  professed  to  be  a  defen- 
sive or  retaliatory  league  against  Orangeism.  In  Munster  it 
was  at  first  a  combination  against  tithe-proctors.  In  Con- 
naught  it  was  an  organization  against  rack-renting  and  evic- 
tions. In  Leinster  it  oftenjias-BiCiie^trade-unionism,  dictating 
by  its  mandates  and  enforcing  by  its  vengeance  the  employ- 
ment or  dismissal  of  workmen,  stewards,  and  even  domestics. 
This  latter  phase  generally  preceded  the  disappearance  of  the 
system  in  a  particular  locality,  and  was  evidently  the  lowest 
and  basest  form  to  which  it  sank  or  rotted  in  decay.  Every- 
where and  at  all  times  Ribbonism  had,  no  doubt,  certain 
general  forms  or  features  in  connnon.  Some  of  these  were 
very  remarkable.  In  the  first  place,  although  at  one  time, 
and  in  some  localities,  it  affected  to  be  a  political  organi- 
zation for  national  designs,  there  cannot  be  found  in  the 
records  of  its  proceedings  evidence  or  trace  of  participation 
in  them  by  any  persons  of  social  position  or  education  above 
a  very  humble  grade ;  and  I  need  hardly  remark  that  at  no 
period  of  Irish  history  could  this  be  said  of  really  politi- 
cal conspiracies.  The  Ribbon  Society  seems  to  have  been 
wholly  confined  to  small  farmers,  cottiers,  laborers,  and,  in 
the  towns,  petty  shop-keepers,  in  whose  houses  the  "  lodges" 
were  held.     Its  documents,  correspondence,  rules,  passwords, 


52  iS^^ir  IRELAND. 

ami  addresses  betray  in  most  instances  the  grossest  illiteracy ; 
although  the  construction  and  management  of  the  organiza- 
tion exhibited  much  cleverness,  activity,  vigilance,  and  re- 
source. The  next  singular  fact  is  that  although  from  the 
inception,  or  first  appearance,  of  Ribbon  ism  the  Catholic 
clergy  waged  a  determined  war  upon  it, — denouncing  it  from 
the  altar,  and  going  so  far  as  to  refuse  the  sacrament  to  its 
adherents, — the  society  was  exclusively  Catholic.  Under  no 
circumstances  would  a  Protestant  be  admitted  to  membership ; 
nay,  any  person  nearly  related  to,  or  connected  with,  a  Prot- 
estant was  disqualified.  This  is  about  the  only  feature  which 
seems  to  have  been  universally  prevalent  and  invincibly  re- 
tained in  the  hundred  forms  of  Irish  Kibbonism.  The  fact 
has,  however,  led  to  some  utterly  erroneous  ideas  as  to  the 
alleged  sanguinary  sectarian  designs  of  the  organization,  and 
has  encouraged  the  concoction  of  some  rather  stupidly  forged 
"  Ribbon  oaths."  One  of  these  was  cited  by  Mr.  Monk,  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  on  the  18th  of  March,  1871,  and  ran 
as  follows : 

"  By  virtue  of  the  oath  I  have  taken  I  will  aid  and  assist  with  all  my 
mind  and  strength,  when  called  upon,  to  massacre  Protestants  and  cut 
away  heretics,  burn  British  churches,  and  abolish  Protestant  kings  and 
princes,  and  all  others  e^v^'cjit  the  Church  of  Konie  and  this  system.  .  .  . 
And  I  also  feel  bound  to  believe  that  there  is  no  absolution  to  be  had 
from  the  Pope  of  Kome  or  any  other  authority  belonging  to  that  Church, 
or  that  which  is  to  come,  from  any  breach  of  this  test." 

The  spuriousness  of  this  production  was  instantly  perceived 
and  pointed  out  in  Ireland.  The  per.son  who  composed  it  was 
not  only  not  a  Catholic  (as  a  Ribbonman  would  necessarily 
have  been),  but  he  was  ignorant  of  the  way  in  wliich  Cath- 
olics invariably  refer  to  topics  touched  on  in  the  alleged  oath. 
They  never  speak  or  write  of  their  own  Church  as  "  that" 
Church ;  and  the  "  Pope  of  Rome"  is  a  Protestant,  not  a 
Catholic,  phrase  in  Ireland.    An  Irish  peasant  would  scarcely 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  53 

know  what  was  meant  by  a  "  British  church."  Indeed,  the 
Irish  Chief  Secretary  jULord  Hartington)  admitted  that 
though  the  police  had  found  a  copy  of  such  an  oath  in  a 
house  near  Mullingar,  its  authenticity  was  not  accepted  in 
Dublin  Castle. 

Of  genuine  Ribbon  oaths — those  the  use  of  which  in  the 
lodges  was  actually  deposed  to — there  is  a  confusing  plenty ; 
and  a  contrast  of  these  will  amply  corroborate  my  statement 
that  the  real  origin,  character,  and  aims  of  the  combination 
have  bafiBed  discovery,  or  that  there  were  various  Ribbon  sys- 
tems, radically  differing  one  from  another.  Between  1820  and 
1870  there  have  been  put  in  evidence,  or  sworn  to  in  "infor- 
mations," more  than  a  score  of  irreconcilabje  Ribbon  oaths. 
Some,  for  instance,  set  out  by  pledging  the  most  devoted 
fealty  to  the  Queen  ;  others  by  swearing  allegiance  to  "Daniel 
O'Connell,  real  King  of  Ireland,  and  his  eldest  son,  Maurice 
0'C(mnell,  our  Chief  Commander."  Of  these  two  oaths, 
or  classes  of  oaths,  various  versions  have  been  given,  not 
merely  by  "  approvers"  in  the  witness-box,  but  from  written 
documents  seized  at  lodge-meetings.  The  explanation  of  all 
this  very  probably  is  that  the  local  officials  of  the  society  in 
many  places  added  some  words  of  their  own.  The  general 
features  of  the  oath  seemed  to  be  to  keep  the  secrets  of  the 
society;  implicit  obedience  to  its  officers;  readiness  to  assem- 
ble and  execute  commands  "  at  two  hours'  notice ;"  pledge  to 
assist  any  fellow-member  being  beaten  or  ill  treated.  In 
sevetttiAiecajons  the  oath  contained  a  clause  binding  the  mem- 
bers "  never  to  drink  to  excess  so  as  toendaritypr  thAdivnlirincy 
of  secrets." 

Not  long  since  I  was  shown  a  printed  report  (now,  I  be- 
lieve, very  rare)  of  the  trial  in  Dublin  in  1840  of  Richard 
Jones,  the  first  high  officer — indeed,  I  believe,  the  first  mem- 
ber— of  the  Ribbon  Society  whom  the  Government  were  able 
to  convict,  after  nearly  twenty  years  of  fruitless  endeavors  to 


54  ^"EW  IRELAND. 

grapple  with  the  system.  In  this  publication  frequent  refer- 
ence is  made  to  a  book  found  on  the  prisoner,  in  which  he 
had  copied  in  short-hand  characters  most  of  his  secret  corre- 
spondence with  the  lodge  and  lodge-officers,  as  well  as  the 
signs,  passwords,  rules,  and  regulations  of  the  society.  The 
Government  did  not  divulge  on  the  trial  all  that  the  book 
contained ;  bnt  they  caused  to  be  executed  for  their  private 
information  a  full  copy  of  its  contents,  probably  the  most 
complete  and  authentic  revelation  they  were  able  to  obtain, 
before  or  since,  of  the  character,  designs,  and  transactions  of 
the  Ribbon  Society.  Government  documents  are  not  always 
carefully  kept.  That  identical  manuscript  translation  of 
Jones's  secret  book  is  this  moment  in  my  possession.* 

Jones  was  clerk  to  a  sales-master  in  Smithfiekl  Market, 
Dublin,  and  filled  the  office  of  general  secretary  for  Ireland 
in  the  Ribbon  system.  In  truth  he  appears  to  have  been 
the  ruling  spirit  of  the  society.  A  perusal  of  this  corre- 
spondence certainly  shows  that  Ribbonism  was  then  being 
established  with  political  aims  or  pretensions.  Jones,  who, 
though  a  man  of  humble  education,  certainly  possessed 
considerable  ability  and  fone  of  character,  appears  on  the 
face  of  these  communications  to  have  been  nothing  of  the 
vulgar  and  venal  villain  which  most  Ribbon  organizers  are 
assumed  to  have  been.  From  first  to  last  he  is  energetically 
repressing  discords,  counselling  union,  and  directing  the  ex- 
pulsion of  bad  and  doubtful  characters.  I  find  no  trace  of 
selfish  gain  or  profit  to  himself — quite  the  contrary — in  the 
whole  story ;  while  as  to  the  aims  of  the  confederacy,  though 
on  this  point  there  is  wondrous  vagueness__and__CQn£usion, 
these  letters  are  full  of  allu^ons  essentially  political  in  their 


*  I  believe  that  documents  of  even  a  much  more  startling  character 
have  been  dispersed  through  the  waste-paper  shops  of  Dublin  since  the 
death  of  a  well-known  Castle  official  a  few  years  ago. 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  55 

character.  To  "  free  Ireland," — to  "  liberate  our  country," 
— to  "  unite  all  Roman  Catholics,"  are  again  and  again  men- 
tioned, incidentally,  as  the  great  objects  of  the  society.  On 
the  24th  of  April,  1838,  Jones,  ^\riting  to  an  official  of  the 
society  in  England,  says,  "  Send  us  word  immediately  what 
is  the  determination  of  the  friends  belonging  to  the  Hiber- 
nians in  Liverpool.  If  they  act  for  the  welfare  of  their 
native  land  they  will  join  with  those  persons  whose  wish  it 
is  to  see  their  native  land  free.  The  motto  of  every  honest 
Irishman  should  be>>^Unite  and  free  your  native  land.' " 
Nay,  strange  to  say,  I  find  in  one  of  Jones's  letters  not  read 
on  the  trial  an  observation  which  sounds  curiously  at  the 
present  moment.  "  The  hour  of  England's  difficulty  is  at 
hand ;"  he  tells  them :  "  the  Russian  bear  is  drawing  near 
to  her  in  India."  Again,  on  the  21st  of  May,  1838,  Andrew 
Dardis  and  Richard  Jones,  the  grand  master  and  grand  sec- 
retary, write  to  a  lodge-master  in  the  country,  "  We  are  happy 
to  hear  that  the  men  of  your  county  that  were  heretofore  op- 
posed to  the  interests  of  our  native  land  are  to  meet  you  on 
the  27th  for  the  purpose  of  causing  unity  of  feeling."  In 
fine,  it  is  abundantly  clear  that,  in  some  hazy  general  way, 
the  Ribbonmen  of  this  period  were  induced  to  believ^e  that 
the  organization  was  a  political  conspiracy  against  the  Gov- 
ernment, and  not  the  mere  agrarian  combination  which  it 
subsequently  proved  to  be. 

The  name  "  Ribbon"  Society  was  not  attached  to  it  until 
about  1826.  It  was  previously  known  as  "Liberty  Men;" 
the  "  Religious  Liberty  System ;"  the  "  United  Sons^Jrish 
Freedom  ;"  "  Sons  of  the  Shamrock ;"  and  by  other  names. 
From  an  early  period  there  were  rival  Ribbon  organizations 
bitterly  opposing  one  another;  and  Jones's  great  concern 
seems  to  have  been  to  put  down  this  contention  and  effect  a 
fusion. 

The  Government  were  fairly  perplexed  by  the  conflicting 


56  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

accounts  sent  in  from  time  to  time  by  the  magistrates  and 
police  as  to  the  society.  Most  of  all  were  they  bewildered 
by  the  stories  supplied  by  their  paid  agents  or  "  informers" 
in  the  ranks  of  the  organization.  These  latter  were  numer- 
ous enough,  and  their  information,  estimated  as  to  quantity, 
was  well  worth  the  pay  given  for  it;  but  the  Government 
declared  that  in  scarcely  a  single  case  or  a  single  particular 
were  they  able  to  place  any  reliance  on  these  stories.  The 
informants  seem  to  have  known  very  little  that  could  be 
made  evidence,  but  to  have  invented  a  great  deal.  Mr. 
Barnes,  a  stipendiary  magistrate  greatly  trusted  by  the  Gov- 
ernment, writes  as  follows  to  the  Chief  Secretary  as  to  one 
of  these  informants,  whose  stories  the  Lord  Lieutenant 
wished  him  to  probe : 

"This  man  has  been  known  to  me  since  the  month  of  October  last; 
and  from  my  knowledge  of  him  I  have  no  hesitation  in  designating 
him  one  of  the  most  consummate  and  specious  villains  in  all  Ireland. 
He  was  formerly  a  policeman  and  discharged  for  misconduct ;  a- Prot- 
estant, and  turned  to  mass  for  the  purpose,  as  he  stated  to  me,  of  becom- 
ing a  Kibbonman  and  betraying  their  secrets ;  was  in  my  employment 
between  four  and  five  months  as  a  secret  agent  to  get  me  information  ; 
received  in  that  time  upwards  of  fifteen  pounds  from  me,  and  ended  our 
connection  by  stating,  and  oflering  to  swear  to  his  statement,  that  he 
himself  was  one  of  the  party  who  murdered  Morrison  [Lord  Lorton's 
bailiff],  tendering  himself  to  me  as  an  approver,  and  claiming  the  're- 
ward and  pardon'  offered  by  the  proclamation.  Knowing  this  statement 
to  be  false,  I  determined  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  fellow, 
and  accordingly  ceased  all  communication  with  him." 

Other  magistrates  were  not  quite  so  strait-laced  as  Mr. 
Barnes,  and  this  "  consummate  and  specious  villain"  found 
ready  employment  elsewhere  as  a  police  agent  for  the  "detec- 
tion" of  Ribbonisra.  In  this  process  there  is  but  too  much 
reason  to  conclude  that  he  pursued  a  course  unfortunately 
not  rare  in  connection  with  secret  associations  in  Ireland, — 
namely,  that  he  enrolled  members  and  organized  or  perpe- 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  57 

trated  outrages  himself,  then  "  divulged"  to  the  authorities, 
and  swore  to  conviction  against  his  dupes"  and  accomplices.* 

A  Mr.  Hill  Rowan,  stipendiary  magistrate,  who  seems  to 
have  made  the  discovery  of  Ribbonisra  his  special  labor,  sup- 
plied the  most  copious  information  on  the  subject.  In  many 
respects  he  was,  clearly,  over-credulous.  Even  the  Govern- 
ment considered  him  given  to  exaggeration ;  yet  his  revela- 
tions no  doubt  contained  a  great  deal  of  truth.  According 
to  him,  the  society  was  the  "Society  of  Confidential  Ribbon- 
men."  He  gravely  narrates  how  one  of  his  informants — no 
doubt  belong;! ngc  to  the  class  above  referred  to — testified  that 
it  was  first  formed  by  Lord  EdwaixLFitz^^erald,  in  1798; 
that  *'  its  present  objects  were  to  dethrone  the  Queen  ;  to 
place  Daniel  O'Connell,  the  member  of  Parliament  for  Dub- 
lin, as  Catholic  king  of  Ireland  in  her  stead ;  to  put  down 
and  destroy  the  Protestant  religion  in  Ireland ;  and  to  re- 
store the  forfeited  estates  that  were  usurped  by  Oliver  Crom- 
well, a  list  of  which  is  kept  by  the  Catholic  priests,  to  their 
owners."  The  society  extended  all  over  Ireland,  and  was 
governed  by  a  body  called  the  "  Grand  Ribband  Lodge  of 
Ireland,"  this  body  being  composed  of  representatives  of  the 
different   county  organizations.       Quarterly  returns  of   the 

*  Mr.  Faucett,  Provost  of  Sligo,  writes  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  one 
of  these  informants  whom  he  was  asked  to  report  upon  privately,  "  He 
is  a  doubtful  sort  of  person,  on  whose  uncorroborated  testimony  no  re- 
liance should  be  placed  ;  and  it  appears  to  me  his  object  is  to  get  or  earn 
money  by  his  information."  Mr,  Brownrigg,  provincial  inspector  of 
constabulary,  reporting  another  of  them  says,  "  He  is  a  man  of  very  bad 
character."  Of  yet  another,  "I  have  been  informed  by  persons  on 
whom  reliance  can  be  placed  that  he  is  a  man  of  the  very  worst  char- 
acter." Of  another  the  stipendiary  magistrate  (Mr.  O'Brien)  says, 
"  Mr.  Jones  admitted  there  could  not  be  any  use  made  of  his  evi- 
dence. Mr.  Brownrigg  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  not 
telling  one  word  of  truth,  but  that  his  object  was  to  get  money."  Nu- 
merous such  cases  misrht  be  cited. 


58  NEW  IRELAND. 

number  of  members  were  made  by  every  parish.  Over  each 
parish  there  was  a  "  Parochial  Committee"  of  twelve,  includ- 
ing the  "Parish  Master."  A  delegate  from  each  such  com- 
mittee in  a  barony  formed  the  "  Baronial  Lodge."  All 
orders  of  the  society  were  to  be  obeyed  under  penalty  of 
death.  The  members  in  each  county  were  known  to  each  other 
by  signs  and  passwords,  which  were  issued  by  the  grand  lodge 
every  month,  but  changed  as  often  as  the  existing  or  current 
passes  ("goods"  they  were  called)  might  be  discovered  by 
the  police.  There  were  salutation  phrases  and  "  quarrelling 
words ;"  that  is,  words  which  two  men  engaged  in  strife  might 
use  to  ascertain  whether  they  were  not  "  brethren,"  and  so 
bound  to  desist.     Some  of  these  grips  and  passwords  ran  as 

follows : 

(For  October.) 

Observation.  The  winter  is  approaching. 

Reply.  It  is  time  to  expect  it. 

0.  Our  foe  is  found  out. 

R.  Our  guardians  are  watchful. 

(At  night.) 
O.  The  night  is  sharp. 
R.  It  is  time  to  expect  it. 

(Quarrelling.) 
O.  You  make  a  mistake. 
R.  I  am  sorry  for  it. 

(Sign.) 
The  right  hand  to  the  right  knee. 
The  left  thumb  in  the  breeches-pocket. 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  opening  observation  is  always  of 
a  harmless  commonplace  nature,  which  if  addressed  to  a  stran- 
ger could  occasion  no  suspicion.  "The  winter  is  approach- 
ing" is  a  remark  not  out  of  course  in  October,  If  the  im- 
mediate response  is,  "  It  is  time  to  expect  it,"  the  first  speaker 
has  reason  to  think  he  is  talking  to  a  brother  Rlbbonman. 


THE  RIBBON   CONFEDERACY.  59 

To  make  sure,  he  proceeds  with  a  remark  not  likely  to  be 
understood  unless  by  a  fellow-member :  "  Our  foe  is  found 
out."  A  reply  declaring  that  "  Our  guardians  are  watchful" 
establishes  brotherhood  between  the  parties.  The  "  quarrel- 
ling words"  are  similarly  explained.     Here  are  other  forms : 

0.  The  days  are  getting  long. 

R  The  life  of  man  is  getting  short. 

O.  Have  you  got  any  news  ? 

R.  They  are  doing  well  in  Canada.* 

(Quarrelling.) 
0.  Don't  be  fond  of  quarrelling. 
R.  By  no  means. 

Even  at  that  time,  forty  years  ago,  Russia  figured  so  largely 
in  public  politics  as  to  find  a  place  in  these  passwords : 

0.  "What  is  your  opinion  of  the  times  ? 
R.  I  think  the  markets  are  on  a  rise. 
O.  Foreign  war  is  the  cause  of  it. 
R.  It's  the  Kussians'  wish  to  tyrannize. 
May  the  sons  of  Erin  wherever  they  be 
Continue  ever  in  loyalty. 

(Night- word.) 
^.  "What  is  the  age  of  the  moon  ? 
A.  Eeally  I  don't  know. 

(Sign.) 
Eight  hand  rubbed  across  the  forehead.     To  be  answered  by  the  left 
hand  down  the  pocket. 

The  opening  observation  was,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  inva- 
riably harmless,  and  skilfully  referred  to  some  passing  topic. 
Thus  the  troubles  of  the  Melbourne  ministry  are  brought  in  : 


*  The   Canadian   rebellion  of  M.  Papineau  was   proceeding  at  the 

time. 


go  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

0.  What  do  you  think  of  the  Government  ? 

R.  They  are  much  divided. 

O.  May  Patrick's  sons  all  persevere 

R.  To  gain  the  rights  of  Granu  Aile.* 

Down  to  quite  a  recent  period  it  was  not  unusual  for  per- 
sons in  a  rank  of  life  far  above  the  Ribbonmen  to  be  indebted 
to  some  friendly  member  for  protection  and  assistance  by 
"  loan"  of  the  sign  or  password.  The  late  Sir  John  Gray 
told  me  that  when  contesting  Monaghan  County  in  1852  he 
found  that  his  opponents  in  a  particular  district  had  purchased 
the  support  of  the  Ribbonmen  as  an  election  mob,  and  that 
passage  through  the  town  to  the  place  of  meeting  would  be 
denied  him.  He  realized  fully  the  dangers  of  appearing  in 
the  midst  of  these  men  ;  but  in  his  last  moments  of  despair  a 
friend  in  need  turned  up.  He  was  waited  upon  by  a  myste- 
rious personage,  who  told  him  it  would  be  "  a  disgrace  to  Ire- 
land if  the  patriotic  editor  of  the  Frceinan^s  Journal  was 
bludgeoned  in  the  street,  or  compelled  to  hide  in  his  hotel." 
He  thereupon  confided  to  Sir  John  the  current  Rilibon  signs, 
the  first  of  which  happened  to  be  simply  the  drawing  of  the 
fingers  of  the  rin-ht  hand  across  the  mouth.  Sir  John  hesi- 
tated  for  an  instant.  Was  this  a  trap  to  lure  him  into  the 
midst  of  his  enemies?  He  quickly  dismissed  the  thought, 
and  boldly  sallied  forth,  his  companions  in  the  hotel,  igno- 
rant of  the  £egis  confided  to  him,  vainly  endeavoring  to  dis- 
suade him.  A  yell  burst  from  the  mob  around  the  door 
when  he  emerged  into  the  street,  and  hundreds  of  sticks  rose 
in  the  air.  He  quietly  lifted  his  hand  to  his  mouth  and  gave 
the  sign.  "  For  barely  a  second,"  said  he,  telling  me  the 
story,  "there  flashed  through  my  mind  a  horrible  uncer- 
tainty ;  but  by  a  supreme  effort  I  maintained   myself,  and 


*  One  of  the  figurative  names  of  Ireland;    actually  the  Gaelic  for 
Grace  O'Malley. 


THE  RIBBON   CONFEDERACY.  61 

betrayed  no  symptom  of  alarm.  Suddenly  every  voice  was 
hushed,  every  weapon  was  lowered,  and  a  passage  was  opened 
out  for  me  in  the  crowd,  amidst  which  I  quietly  walked  to 
the  court-house,  w'here  the  meeting  was  proceeding." 

I  myself  have  known  instances  in  the  course  of  what  I 
call  the  rot  of  the  system  where  the  support  or  opposition  of 
the  Ribbonmen  during  an  election  was  quite  a  matter  of 
pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.  Mr.  Richard  Swift,  who  was 
returned  member  of  Parliament  for  Sligo  County  in  185'2, — 
one  of  the  most  faithful  and  worthy  Englishmen  who  ever 
espoused  the  public  service  of  Ireland, — lost  his  re-election 
in  1857  notoriously  because  he  refused  to  give  a  sum  of 
money  privately  demanded  as  black- mail  by  the  lodges.  In 
other  cases,  I  feel  bound  to  admit,  the  Ribbonmen  adopted  a 
less  venal  course.     They  scorned  to  fight  for  pay. 

But  alas !  when  one  comes  to  review  the  actual  results  of 
the  Ribbon  system  in  Ireland, — to  survey  its  bloody  work 
throughout  those  fifty  years, — how  frightful  is  the  prospect ! 
It  has  been  said,  and  probably  with  some  truth,  that  it 
has  been  too  much  the  habit  to  attribute  erroneously  to  the 
Ribbon  organization  every  atrocity  committed  in  the  country, 
every  deed  of  blood  apparently  arising  out  of  agrarian  com- 
bination or  conspiracy.  An  emphatic  denial,  and  challenge 
to  proofs,  have  been  given  to  stories  of  midnight  trials  and 
sentences  of  death  at  lodge-meetings.  Very  possibly  the 
records  of  lodge  meetings  afford  no  such  proof,  thougii  there 
is  abundant  evidence  that  at  such  assemblages  threatening 
notices  and  warnings  were  ordered  to  be  served,  and  domi- 
ciliary visits  for  terrorizing  purposes  were  decreed.  But 
vain  is  all  pretence  that  the  Ribbon  Society  did  not  become, 
whatever  the  original  design  or  intentions  of  its  members 
may  have  been,  a  hideous  organization  of  outrage  and  mur- 
der. It  is  one  of  the  inherent  evils  of  oath-bound  secret 
societies    of  this    kind,  where  implicit   obedience  to   secret 

6 


62  ^EW  IRELAND. 

superiors"  is  sworn,  that  they  may  very  easily  aucl  quickly 
drop  to  the  lowest  level  of  demoralization  and  become  asso- 
ciations for  the  wreaking  of  mere  personal  vengeance.  Men 
who  set  themselves  to  the  work  of  assassination,  on  any  pre- 
tence, speedily  become  so  depraved  that  life-taking  ceases  to 
have  enormity  in  their  eyes.  There  was  a  period  when  Ribbon 
outrages  had,  at  all  events,  conceivable  provocation  ;  but  there 
came  a  time  when  they  sickened  the  public  conscience  by 
their  wantonness.  The  vengeance  of  the  society  was  ruthless 
and  terrible.  Some  forty  years  ago  the  Catholic  peasantry  of 
Longford  County  were  panic-stricken  by  the  commencement 
of  what  looked  like  a  settled  design  for  their  extermina- 
tion in  order  that  a  Protestant  "  plantation"  might  be  estab- 
lished in  their  stead.  Lj>Ftl— fcorion  was  accountable  in  the 
largest  degree  for  this  alarm,  and  the  lamentable  consequences 
which  resulted.  He  commenced  coiisid£ral)le  evictions  of  his 
Catholic  tenantry  under  circumstances  of  great  hardship; 
handino;  over  the  jarms  thus  cleared,  in  several  consecutive 
instances,  to  Protestant  new-coniers^  Popular  panic  no  doubt 
exaggerated  much  as  to  what  had  been  done  and  was  intended  ; 
but  enough  was  patent  on  the  face  of  his  proceedings  to 
account  for  the  wild  excitement  which  arose.  That  excite- 
ment culminated  in  one  of  the  most  astonishing  chapters  of 
savage  vengeance  of  whicli  there  is  record  in  Ireland.  De- 
fending himself  and  explaining  his  course  of  action  subse- 
quently, Lord  Lorton  told  the  fate_oilidne-P*ot«stant  tenants 
— Brock,  Diamond,  Moorehead,  Cole,  Catheart,  Rollins, 
(another)  Diamond,  (another)  ^Moorehead,  and  Morrison — 
whom  he  had  planted  on  the  evicted  farms : 

"  What  became  of  Brock  ?" 

"  He  was  murderedji_j£ii:_slK)rt  time  after  he  had  taken 
possession,  close  by  his  house,  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
eveniup;." 

"  What  became  of  Diamond  ?" 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  63 

"  Diamond  was  attacked  and  very  much  injured.  He  is 
now  in  a  disabled  state." 

"  What  became  of  Alexander  Moorehead  ?" 

"  He  had  all  his  cattle  destroyed  in  January." 

"  What  became  of  Cole?'^ 

"  On  his  way  to  purchase  stock  he  was  stabbed  and  beaten 
in  a  most  savage  manner.     His  life  was  despaired  of." 

"  What  became  of  Cathcart?" 

"  On  four  different  occasions  he  was  fired  at,  and  ultimately 
was  shot  dead  near  his  own  dwelling." 

"  What  became  oT^olHns  ?" 

"  Rollins  and  the  second  Diamond  lived  together.  Their 
stock  was  taken  away,  and  was  JbuDil  killed,  skinned,  and 
buried  iit-bog=holes." 

"  What  became  of  Hugh  Moorehead  ?" 

"He  was  murdered  Avhile  sitting  round  the  fire  in  the 
evening  with  his  little  family." 

"  What  became  of  William  Morrison  ?" 

"  He  was  murdejred.  An  armed:  pm-ty  attacked  and  mur- 
dered him  in  a  house  in  Drumlish," 

This  terrible  recapitulation  enables  one  to  realize  the  bloody 
work  of  agrarian  combinations.  To  me  it  certainly  is  pecu- 
liarly revolting  because  of  the  religious  element  which  mingles 
in  the  story.  Yet  there  is  another  side  of  the  picture  to  be 
looked  at.     The  guilt  of  one^party  is  not  lessened  by  the 

culpability  of  thpj>flipr;  but  p;ir'li  Ims  tn  hp  vi'pwpd  I  have 
given  in  the  words  of  that  nobleman  himself  Lord  Lorton's 
thrilling  recital  of  the  assassins'  vengeance.  Were  I  to  set 
forth  the  accounts  of  his  lordship's  proceedings  from  the  lips 
of  the  Ballinamuck  -temmtryy-it-A^Qidd  be  a_record  of  great 
barbarity.  "Thp  rplnfions  l^ptwppn  hii^i  and  these  people  seem 
to  have'ljecome,  in  that  evil  time,  those  of  deadly  and  im- 
placable war.  A  document  under  his  own  hand,  issued  a 
year  before  the  razing  of  Ballinamuck  (referred  to  below). 


64  -^'-Eir  IRELAND. 

and  relied  upon  as  a  "justification"  of  that  rutliless  and 
shocking  proceeding,  gives  some  idea  of  Lord  Lorton's 
temper : 

"  When  murders  and  other  barbarous  acts  of  violence  are 
committed  upon  any  part  of  the  property,  and  convictions  do 
not  take  place  at  the  ensuing  assizes,  the  occupiers  of  the 
lands  on  the  leases  expiring  will  be  ejected." 

That  is  tq^say,  wholesale  eviction — which  meant  ruin  and 
death  for  the  wretched  people — was  to  follow,  unless  "  at  the 
ensuing  assizes"  the  Crown  prosecuted  nnd  convictpd  for  mur- 
der or  other  outrage!  The  edicts  of  William  Rnfus  were 
more  considerate  than  this.  Lord  Lorton  was  as  good  as  his 
threat.  Publicly  and  sincerely  he  afterAvards  expressed  his 
sorrow  for  the  vengeance  he  wreaked  in  a  moment  of  passion; 
but  it  was  too  late :  he  had  done  that  which  no  repentance 
could  undo.  He  ordered  the  whole  population  of  Rnllinn- 
muck  to  be  ^2^^^;|^n''''^y^  ■■"'!  the  pntirp  ^•illng;o  to  bn  razed 
to  the  ground.  It  was  done.  That  scene  Mill  never  be  for- 
gotten in  Longford. 

A  Protestant  landlord  and  magistrate  in  Sligo  County — 
one  who  was  himself,  many  years  ago,  "  posted"  for  assassina- 
tion by  the  Hibbon  authorities — assured  me  that  the  frightful 
severity  of  the  law,  as  administered  at  the  time, — the  excess- 
ive penalties,  and  the  vengeful  spirit  in  which  they  were 
inflicted, — had  much  to  do  in  driving  the  rural  population 
into  this  lawless  and  savage  state.  "  I  have  known,"  said 
he,  "a  man  to  be  executed  for  breaking  the  hasp  of  a  door 
and  rescuing  a  mule  belonging  to  himself  that  had  been 
seized  and  impounded."  This  was  what  was  called  salutary 
vigor.  He  added  that  in  more  instances  than  one  within  his 
own  knowledge  the  crimes  of  the  Ribbonmen,  abominable 
as  they  were,  had  been  preceded  by  heartless  provocations. 
The  way,  as  my  friend  described  it  to  me,  in  which  the  body 
of  a  man  murdered  in  that  neighborhood  was  discovered  was 


THE  RIBBON  CONFEDERACY.  65 

truly  remarkable.  This  man,  Madden  by  name, — a  sullen, 
daring,  reckless  fellow, — united  nearly  every  avocation  that 
could  render  him  odious  to  the  people.  He  had  been  a 
tithe-proctor,  brutal  andjQnfcelin^in  his  razzias.  He  was 
rent-warner  and  bailiff.  He  knew  the  surrounding  popula- 
tion hated  him,  and  he  defiantly  displayed  his  hate  of  them. 
It  was  decided  at  some  midnight  council  that  Madden  should 
be  put  to  death.  Parties  of  two  or  three  lay  in  wait  for  hini 
on  several  occasions,  but  he  happened  not  to  pass  by  the  way 
which  they  expected.  At  length  no  less  than  thirty-six  men, 
divided  into  four  separate  parties  of  nine  each,  were  told  off 
and  posted  at  every  possible  path  by  which  he  could  reach 
his  house,  returning  from  the  market-town.  One  of  these 
bands  encountered  the  wretched  man,  and  murdered  him, 
not  many  perches  from  his  own  door.  While  the  body  was 
yet  warm, — nay,  horrible  to  relate,  while  life  yet  throbbed  in 
it, — they  buried  it  in  a  corner  of  a  freshly-ploughed  field 
close  at  hand,  leaving  not  a  trace  of  their  bloody  deed  visible 
to  tell  the  tale.  Madden  was  missed.  The  hue  and  cry  was 
raised.  The  police  scoured  the  whole  country-side,  searched 
every  house,  examined  every  bush  and  fence,  all  in  vain. 
No  clue  could  be  found.  It  seemed  as  if  the  deed  was  to 
be  forever  shrouded  in  impenetrable  mystery.  One  day  the 
daughter  of  the  murdered  man  was  passing  from  one  field  to 
another,  and  mounted  an  old  dry-built  stone  wall.  It  gave 
way  beneath  her,  and  she  fell  heavily  forward.  To  save 
herself,  as  she  came  with  a  shock  to  the  ground,  she  put  out 
her  hand.  As  it  sunk  in  the  soft  soil  it  touched  and  grasped 
— the  hand  of  her  father's  buried  corpse !  The  unfortunate 
man  seems  to  have  struggled  in  his  bloody  grave  after  the 
murderers  had  quitted  the  scene.  He  had  thrust  one  of  his 
hands  upward  to  within  a  few  inches  of  the  surface ! 

From  1835  to  1855  the  Ribbon  organization  was  at  its 
greatest  strength.     For  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years  it  has 

E  >C*  . 


QQ  NEW  IRELAND. 

been  gradually  disappearing  from  the  greater  part  of  Ireland, 
yet,  strange  to  say,  betimes  intensifying,  in  a  baser  and  more 
malignant  form  than  ever,  in  one  or  two  localities.  With  the 
emigration  of  the  laboring  classes  it  was  carried  abroad,  to 
England  and  to  America.  At  one  time  the  most  formidable 
lodges  were  in  Lancashire,  whither,  it  is  said,  the  headquar- 
ters were  removed  for  safety.  It  manifestly  adapted  itself  to 
the  necessities  or  requirements  of  the  class  whence  its  ranks 
were  recruited;  for  while  at  home  in  Ireland  it  affected  to 
right  the  wrongs  of  tenants  and  farm-laborers  against  land- 
lords and  bailiffs,  in  England  it  offered  to  its  members  the 
advantages  of  a  league  offensive  and  defensive  in  a  species 
of  trades-union  terrorism.  Likely  enough  some  sort  of  com- 
bination was  found  to  be  almost  a  necessity  by  the  laboring 
Irish  at  one  stage  of  their  existence  in  England,  when  the 
effect  of  their  appearance  in  the  labor  market  drew  upon  them 
the  fierce  hostility  of  the  lower  classes  around  them.  But 
all  this  has  passed  away ;  and  the  few  traces  of  demoralized 
Ribbonism  that  may  yet  be  found  lingering  are,  in  nearly 
every  case,  miserables  leagues  for  the  lowest  and  worst  of 
purposes,  in  which  Irishman  slays  Irishman,  and  leave  to  live 
or  to  obtain  employment  in  a  particular  district  is  regulated 
by  the  secret  tribunal.  Ribbonism  has  been  killed  off — has 
found  existence  impossible — according  as  a  healthier  public 
opinion  has  grown  among  the  masses.  Here,  again,  the 
school  and  the  newspaper  have  proved  powerful  agencies  of 
moral  and  political  regeneration.  This  curse  of  Ireland  is 
doomed  to  disappear  before  the  onward  march  of  intelligence 
and  patriotism. 


CHAPTER  Y 


FATHER  MATHEW. 


"  Two  suns,"  we  are  told,  "  do  not  shine  in  the  one  firma- 
ment;" yet  the  same  period  of  Irish  history  beheld  side  by 
side  with  Daniel  O'Connell,  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  his 
great  countryman  and  contemporary,  Theobald  Mathew,  "  the 
Apostle  of  Temperance." 

In  widely-different  characters,  however,  these  two  men  won 
eminence  and  praise.  One  was  a  political  leader;  the  other 
was  a  moral  reformer.  The  one  commanded  the  allegiance 
of  a  party  in  the  State ;  the  other  received  the  homage  of  all. 
There  is  scarcely ■acountixig  the  crvjbVp^^  -^ynrlrl  in  ^yhi^h  the 
memory^f  Father  Mathew  is  not  revered.  Wherever  good 
men  are  laboring  for  the  elevation  of  humanity,  the  stor}''  of 
his  career  is  an  incentive  to  brave  endeavor ;  and  how  far  his 
work  has  perished  with  or  survived  him  is  a  question  which 
excites  solicitude. 

Theobald  Mathew  was  born  on  the  10th  of  October,  1790, 
at  Thomastown  House,  near  Cashel,  in*Tipperary,  at  that 
time  the  seat  of  George  ]\Iathew,  Earl  of  Llandaff.  The 
Mathews,  or  Mathew,  family,  of  Welsh  origin,  appear  to 
have  been  settled  in  Tipperary  ever  since  the  civil  war  of 
1641j_.Tn  16.aQ.one  of  its  members,  Captain  George  Mathews, 
then  recently  married  to  Lady  Cahir.  held  Cahir  Castle  for 
the  king,  but  after  a  brave  resistance  capitulated  to  the  forces 
of  Cromwell, — the  Protector,  in  a  letter  under  his  own  hand, 
bearing  testimony  to  the  gallantry  of  the  defence. 

At  an  early  age  young  Theobald  was  sent  to  Maynooth  to 
be  educated  for  the  Catholic  priesthood ;  but  an  infraction  of 

67 


6g  NEW  IRELAND. 

discipline — the  entertainment  of  some  fellow-students  in  his 
rooms  at  forbidden  hours,  I  believe — led  to  his  retirement 
from  the  college.  He  completed  his  ecclesiastical  training, 
however,  at  the  Capuchin  College,  Kilkenny,  and  was  or- 
dained in  1814.  After  a  few  years  of  clerical  labor  in  the 
city  of  St.  Canice,  he  was  moved  by  his  superior  to  the 
Cork  friary  of  the  order,  where  he  devoted  himself  with 
more  than  ordinary  zeal  to  tiie  duties  of  his  position. 

In  the  burst  of  success  which  hailed  Father  Mathew's 
crusade  against  intoxicating  drink,  people  came  to  regard 
him  as  the  originator  or  parent  of  the  temperance  movement. 
Yet  thjs  was  not  so.  He  was  a  recruit,  brought  slowly  to 
espouse  the  cause  which  but  for  his  adhesion  might  have 
perished  in  Ireland.  As  early  at  all  events  as  1836  there 
was  in  Cork  a  little  band  of  men  who  had  embraced  the 
doctrine  of  total  abstinence  from  alcoholic  beverages.  They 
were  chiefly  Protestants,  soma  of  tliejuost  active  among  them 
belonging  to  a  religious  denomination  the  raembei's  of  which 
have  been  leaders  in  nearly  every  social  and  moral  reform, 
and  every  humane  or  2)hilanthropic  effort,  within  my  memory 
in  Ireland, — the  Society  of  Friends. 

AVhen  it  was^~wTlispered  around  that  men  not  yet  in  a 
lunatic-asylum  had  taken  up  the  notion  that  human  life  was 
possible  without  al^pholic  drink,  the  wits  of  Cork  laughed 
heartily  at  the  craze.  The  believers  in  it  were  popularly 
regarded  very  much  as  the  Shaker  community  seem  to  be  in 
this  year  of  grace  eighteen  hundred  and  seventy-seven.  They 
were  verily  the  "peculiar  people"  of  that  date.  After  a  while, 
undeterred  by  the"  derision  whlcfrthey  knew  awaited  them, 
they  ventured  upon  public  addresses,  usually  in  some  little 
school-room  or  meeting-house  hid  away  in  the  back  lanes. 
Hither  came  stray  listeners  to  hear  what  it  was  all  like,  and 
to  see  with  their  own  eyes  the  fanatics  and  fools  who  thought 
men  could  do  without  Beamish  and  Crawfoiid!&.  porter  or 


FATHER  MATHEW.  69 

Wyse's  whisky.  Many  "  came  to  scoif,"  but  few  indeed  "  re- 
mained to  pray."  There  is,  perhaps,  not  a  city  in  the  empire 
so  dominated  by  sarcasms  as  Cork.  Every  well-known  char- 
acterTias  a  sobriquet  tastened  on  him  by  some  one  of  the  local 
wits.  Every  incident  is  viewed  from  its  comic  side.  In  the 
Momonian  capital,  to  be  laughed  at  is  to  be  suppressed ;  and 
this  cold-water  business  w^as  overw^ielmed  by  ridicule. 

Toiling  laboriously  amidst  the  squalor  and  poverty  of  the 
poorest  quarter  of  Cork  city,  the  young  Capuchin  was  at  this 
time  laying  the  foundation  for  that  marvellous  personal  influ- 
ence which  afterwards  formed  so  great  a  part  of  his  power. 
He  was  not  content  wifeh  discharging  the  ordinary  duties  of  his 
sacred  calling,  although  these  Avere  in  themselves  severe  and 
trying.  He  pushed  entirely  outside  thp  strictly  spiiMtnnl 
sphere.  He  set  up  schools, — infant  and  adult,  Sunday  and 
weekday ;  rented  a  loft  here  and  a  third-floor  there,  wherein 
he  established  ili3irsTrIarieaching,fEHIsuil*--beino:  tautjht  vari- 


ous knitting  and  nppdjp-work  Qponpnti'^'"^;  <^*^^  boys  such  trades 
as  seemed  most  suitable.  Then  there  was  not  a  dispensary  or 
a  hospital,  not  an  alms  society  or  room-keepers'  aid  fund,  in 
Cork,  that  he  was  not  in  the  thick  of  the  work,  pushing  on 
every  good  endeavor,  and  constantly  devising  some  new  ex- 
periment in  the  same  direction.  Before  long  the  name  of  the 
young  friar  was  a  household  word ;  his  untiring  activity,  hie 
noble  unselfishness,  his  ardent  anxiety  for  upraising  the  moral 
and  social  condition  of  the  wretched  masses,  w'ere  the  theme 
of  every  tono^ue.  These  labors  inevitably  brought  him  into 
association  with  good  and  philanthropic  men  of  every  creed 
and  every  grade ;  and  the  charm  of  his  manner^  his  brioht, 
genial,  kindly  nature,  his  unaffected  simplicity  and  single- 
raindedness,  soon  rendered  him  as  great  a  favorite  with  Prot- 
estants as  with  his  own  co-religionists. 

Among  the  former  were  some  of  the  total-abstinence  advo- 
cates, notably  the  leading  "fanatic"  of  the  movement,  a  man 


70  ^EW  IRELAND. 

whose  name  is  still  warmly  remembered  by  his  fellow-mer- 
chants and  fellow-citizens  of  Cork,^\Villiam  Martin.  Long 
had  this  sturdy  "  Quaker"  and  his  gallant  band  preached  the 
new  evangel  of  abstinence  from  alcohol ;  but  they  felt  that, 
though  the  Catholic  masses  around  them  respected  them 
greatly  and  viewed  them  kindly,  no  one  but  a  Catholic  of 
influence  and  popularity  could  really  give  the  movement 
headway  among  the  people.  One  day  while  honest  "  Bill 
Martin"' and  Father  Mathew  were  making  their  morning 
visitation  of  a  hospital,  the  constantly-suggested  theme  of  the 
miseries  which  drink  brought  on  the  people  came  uppermost. 
Mr.  Martin,  in  a  burst  of  passionate  grief  or  invective,  sud- 
denly stopped  and  turned  to  his  companion,  exclaiming,  "  Oh, 
Theobald  jNIathew,  Theobald  Mathew,  what  thou  couldst  do 
if  thou  wouldst  only  take  up  this  work  of  banishing^  the  fiend 
that  desolates  the  htmses  of  thy  people  so  l" 

The  young  Capuchin  seemed  asiT  struck  by  some  mys- 
terious power.  He  remained  silent,  walked  moodily  on 
till  he  parted  from  his  Quaker  companion,  then  went  home, 
pondering  words  whicli  all  that  day  and  all  through  the 
night  seemed  still  to  ring  in  his  ears:  "Oh,  Theobald 
INIathew,  what  thou  couldst  do  if  thou  wouldst  but  take  up 
this  work  I" 

If  there  was  one  man  in  Cork  city  who  pre-eminently  had 
tried  every  other  way  of  rescuing  and  uplifting  the  people,  it 
was  he.  What  had  he  not  done,  what  had  he  not  tried  ?  and 
yet  did  not  this  drink-curse  start  up  at  every  turn  to  baffle 
and  defeat  his  every  endeavor  ? 

But  was  not  ^yillian^  Martin's  scheme  a  mad  and  imprac- 
ticable idea?  Was  it  not  already  consigned  to  failure  by  the 
good-humored  laughter  of  the  city?  Could  he  indeed  do 
what  his  friend  believed? 

For  some  days  Father  Mathew  considered  the  whole  sub- 
ject seriously.     One  morning,  as  he  rose  from  his  knees  in 


FATHER  MATHEW.  71 

his  little  oratory,  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "Here  goes,  in  the 
name  of  God."  * 

An  hour  afterwards  he  was  in  the  office  of  William  Martin. 
"  Friend  William,"  said  he,  "  I  have  come  to  tell  you  a 
piece  of  news.  I  mean  to  join  your  temperance  society  to- 
night." 

The  honest-souled  Quaker  rushed  over,  flung  his  arms 
round  the  neck  of  that  young  Popish  friar,  kissed  him  like  a 
child,  and  cried  out,  "  Thank  God !  thank  God  !" 

Thus  entered  Father  Mathew  on  that  work  with  which  his 
name  is  so  memorably  associated ;  thus  began  that  wonderful 
moral  revolution  which  was  soon  to  startle  the  kingdom. 

The  news  that  the  popular  young  Capuchin  had  taken  up 
with  "  the  teetotal  men"  soon  spread  in  Cork.  All  at  once 
it  set  people  thinking,  for  Father  Mathew  had  always  been 
especially  practical,  not  visionary,  in  his  schemes  and  efforts 
for  social  improvement  and  moral  reform.  Crowds  came  to 
hear  what  he  might  have  to  say  on  the  subject.  Before 
many  weeks  the  enrolment  of  adherents  attained  considerable 
volume,  and  the  direction  of  the  work  passed  gradually  into 
his  own  hands.  Indeed  he  early  decided,  after  consultation 
with  the  first  friends  of  the  movement,  to  establish  an  organi- 
zation, or  rather  an  enrolment,  under  his  own  presidency, 
which  he  did  on  the  10th  of  April,  1838. 

The  fame  of  his  laI»ors  and  of  his  success  filled  the  city. 
Every  street,  every  lane  and  alley,  every  large  workshop,  had 
its  story  of  the  marvellous  change  from  misery  and  want  to 
comfort  and  happiness  wrought  in  some  particular  case  by 
"joining  Father  Mathew."  Every  locality  had  its  illustra- 
tion ;  every  one  knew  some  wretched  drunkard's  home  that 


*  This  incident  is  rather  diflerentlv  narrated  by  the  late  Mr.  IVIaguire, 
M.P.,  in  his  charming  vokime  "Father  Mathew:  a  Biography."  I 
have  preferred  <^n  iriyp  it  as  told  to  myself  in  early  boyhood. 


72  ^^EW  IRELAXD. 

liad  been  converted,  as  if  by  the  wand  of  a  magician,  into 
a  scene  of  humble  contentment  and  smiling  plenty.  The 
working  classes  seemed  quite  staggered  by  the  indubitable 
proofs  that  not  only  could  men  live  and  move  and  have 
their  being  without  John  Barleycorn's  aid,  but  that  health, 
happiness,  and  prosperity  seemed  to  be  within  the  easy  reach 
of  all  who  shunned  him.  The  crowds  who  had  found  these 
blessings  under  the  temperance  banner  were  imbued  with  a 
grateful  enthusiasm.  They  shouted  far  and  wide  the  story 
of  their  redemption.  They  hurried  to  every  sufierer  with 
the  tidings  of  hope  and  joy.  Each  convert  became  a  fiery 
apostle  in  his  own  way,  and  before  the  second  anniversary 
of  Father  Mathew's  lifting  of  the  standard  had  come  round, 
he  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  movement  evidently  des- 
tined to  a  great  future. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  temperance  reformation 
of  Father  Mathew's  time  in  Ireland  was  largely  the  outcome 
of  an  enthusiasm  which  could  not  altogether  last.  Itsjioy- 
elty  was  a  great  attniction.  That  is  to  say,  men  saw  around 
them  the  rich  fruits  oT  a  widely-embraced  reform  that  had 
been  i)reached  and  accepted  among  them  for  the  first  time. 
Not  yet  had  reaction  or  reverse  warned  them  that  there  was 
any  but  a  bright  side  to  the  picture.  Not  yet  had  the  terri- 
ble lesson  been  learned  that  "  taking  the  pledge"  did  not 
settle  the  question  for  aye.  As  yet  the  vow  retained  its  pris- 
tine force  and  solemnity.  As  yet  the  dispiriting  and  demoral- 
izing spectacle  of  thousands  relapsing  again  and  again  had 
not  overthrown  popular  confidence  in  the  eflicacy  of  the 
movement. 

The  period  between  1839  and  1845  beheld,  however,  its 
unchecked  and  unbroken  triumph.  The  wonders  that  had 
been  accomplished  in  Cork,  of  course,  were  noised  through- 
out the  neighboring  counties;  invitations  were  pressed  on 
Father  Mathew  by  the  local  clergy,  soliciting  his  presence  so 


FATHER   MATHEW.  73 

that  the  blessing  which  his  work  was  diflfusing  might  be 
shared  by  their  people. 

It  may  be  asked,  Why  should  not  these  clergymen  have 
themselves  administered  the  total-abstinence  pledge,  as  they 
might  have  done?  Why  were  Father  Mathew's  actual 
presence  and  personal  advocacy  so  essential  ?  If  pious  and 
eloquent  exhortation  could  prevail  on  men  to  join  in  a  move- 
ment the  good  results  of  Avhich  were  so  startlingly  demon- 
strated, were  there  not  hundreds  of  priests  and  laymen, 
eloquent  and  earnest,  ready  to  spread  the  crusade  ? 

The  truth  is  that  much  of  Father  Mathew's  success  was 
owing  to  his  marvellous  personal  influence, —  the  almost 
magical  effect  of  his  personal  exhortations.  Furthermore, 
the  prestige  of  his  name,  and  the  eclat  with  which  he  was 
welcomed  in  each  locality,  gave  impression  to  his  missionary 
appearance  and  vastly  increased  his  power.  He  was  not 
what  would  be  called  a  great  orator  ;  it  was  not  what  we 
know  as  eloquence  that  enabled  him  to  bend  to  his  will  the 
multitudes  that  thronged  around  him.  I  was  little  more 
than  twelve  years  of  age  when  I  first  heard  Father  Mathew, 
and  I  can  still  remember  the  impressions  then  created.  They 
were,  I  am  confident,  similar  to  the  emotions  experienced  by 
most  of  those  whose  good  fortune  it  was  to  have  listened  at 
any  time  to  the  "  Apostle  of  Temperance."  I  was  moved 
not  so  much  by  his  words  as  by  some  indescribable  influence 
or  charm  which  he  seemed  to  exercise  over  his  audience.  His 
voice  was  exceedingly  sweet  and  musical,  and  capable  of  great 
inflections.  His  features  were  pleasing  and  handsome,  and 
when  he  smiled,  sunshine  diffused  itself  around.  There  was 
an  air  of  dignity  and  tenderness  indescribable  about  him,  and 
the  earnestness  Avitli  which  he  spoke,  the  intense  feeling  he 
displayed,  were  irresistible.  When  such  a  man  preached 
among  a  people  so  susceptible  as  the  Celtic  Irish  a  cause  so 
just  and  holy, — preached  it  out  of  the  fulness  of  a  heart 

7 


74  NEW  IRELAND. 

abounding  with  love  for  them,  with  compassion  for  their 
sorrows  and  solicitude  for  their  happiness, — who  can  wonder 
that  the  whole  nation  rose  at  his  words  as  Christendom 
answered  to  the  call  of  Peter  the  Hermit  ? 

It  was  indeed  a  "crusade"  Father  Mathew  preached. 
Wlienever  he  visited  a  town  or  city,  the  population  for  a 
score  of  miles  all  round  turned  out  en  masse.  At  Limerick 
so  vast  was  the  assemblage  that  a  troop  of  dragoons  passing 
along  the  quay  got  "jammed"  in  the  crowd,  and  were  literally 
pushed  into  the  river  by  the  surging  of  the  multitude.  Rail- 
ways were  at  the  time  scarcely  known  in  Ireland,  and  Father 
Mathew  travelled  by  the  mail-coach,  out  of  which  circum- 
stance a  formidable  State  grievance  arose.  If  the  inhabitants 
of  a  towu  or  village  happened  to  hear  that  the  famous  Capu- 
chin was  a  passenger,  they  waylaid  the  vehicle — "stopped 
her  Majesty's  mail,"  in  fact — and  refused  to  let  it  proceed  till 
he  had  administered  the  pledge  to  them. 

It  was  a  time  when  political  feeling  ran  high  and  strong  in 
Ireland.  It  was  the  period  of  O'Connell's  Repeal  agitation 
and  of  all  the  accompanying  excitement  of  that  movement. 
Yet,  strange  to  say.  Orange  and  Green  alike  waved  a  greeting 
to  Father  Mathew ;  Whig,  Tory,  and  Repealer  sounded  his 
praise ;  and  nowhere  in  all  Ireland  could  he  have  received  a 
welcome  more  cordial  and  enthusiastic  than  that  which  was 
extended  to  him,  "  Popish  friar"  as  he  was,  by  the  Protestants 
of  Ulster.  He  had  been  warned  not  to  carry  out  his  purpose 
of  visiting  that  province;  the  Orangemen,  it  was  declared, 
could  not  stand  the  sight  of  a  Catholic  priest  received  with 
public  festive  display  in  their  midst.  What  really  happened 
was  that  the  dreaded  Orangemen  cameout  in  grand  procession 
to  join  in  tl^  avatioiu_When  Fatlier  MatKew  sa\v'their  flags 
hung  out  at  Cootehill  on  church  ancl  kirk,  he  rightly  appre- 
ciated the  spirit  of  the  display,  and  called  for  "  three  cheers" 
for  them !     A  Catholic  clergyman  calling  for  a  cordial  saluta- 


FATHER   MATHEW.  75 

tion  of  the  Orange  banner,  and  a  Catholic  assemblage  heartily 
responding,  was  something  almost  inconceivable.  It  had 
never  occurred  before  in  Ireland ;  I  am  afraid  it  has  never 
occurred  since.         '  " 

In  1843  he  visited  England,  landing  at  Liverpool,  and 
proceeding  by  way  of  Manchester,  Huddersfield,  Leeds,  and 
York  to  London.  At  each  of  these  places  he  remained  a  day 
or  two,  administering  the  pledge  to  tens  of  thousands.  In 
London  he  was  fated  to  encounter  the  only  attempt  ever  made 
to  offer  him  insult  and  violence.  The  publicans  of  the  great 
metropolis  were  wroth  with  the  audacity  of  this  endeavor  to 
bring  the  temperance  movement  to  their  doors.  They  deter- 
mined to  put  Father  Mathew  down ;  but  they  were  too  skilful 
to  expose  their  real  motive  of  opposition  by  openly  raising  the 
cry  of  "  trade  interests  in  danger."  For  weeks  the  tap-room 
loungers  and  beery  roughs  of  the  metropolis  were  harangued 
over  the  counter  about  the  "Eopish  Irish  priest"  who  was 
coming  to  overthrow  their  liberties.  The  result  was  that,  at 
more  than  one  place  in  the  city,  on  Father  Mathew's  appear- 
ance an  infuriate  rabble  assailed  the  platform,  compelling 
him  to  desist  or  else  to  administer  the  pledge  under  protection 
of  the  police.  At  Bermondsey  the  publicans'  mob  hooted  and 
pelted  him,  and  some  of  tliem  were  detected  in  an  attempt 
secretly  to  cut  the  ropes  of  the  platform-scaffolding.  It  was 
at  the  same  place  and  on  the  same  occasion,  I  believe,  that 
they  marched  to  interrupt  him  in  a  procession  singularly,  let 
me  rather  say  disgracefully,  equipped.  The  cohort  of  tap- 
room roughs  were  wreathed  from  head  to  foot  in  hop -leaves : 
each  one  bore  a  can  of  beer  in  one  hand  and  a  stave  in  the 
other.  In  this  fashion  they  invaded  the  temperance  meeting, 
whereupon,  as  might  be  expected,  a  violent  conflict  ensued, 
terminated  only  by  the  timely  arrival  of  a  strong  body  of 
police. 

Despite  all  such  opposition,  Father  Mathew  pursued  his 


76  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

labors  in  London.  He  had  the  satisfaction,  before  leaving, 
of  knowing  that  he  had  laid  broad  and  deep  the  foundations 
of  a  great  reformation  among,  at  all  events,  his  own  fellow- 
countrymen  and  co-religionists  in  the  great  city.  During  his 
stay  the  most  flattering  attentions  were  poured  upon  him 
by  the  best  and  greatest  men  of  England.  The  Protestant 
Bishop  of  Norwich  invited  him  to  visit  that  town  and  accept 
the  hospitalities  of  the  palace.  Lord  Stanhope  pressed  a 
like  welcome  to  Chevening;  and  at  Lord  Lansdowne's  the 
"  Irish  Popish  friar"  received  the  cordial  greetings  or~tlie 
Duke  of  Wpllingtrtn^  TjoiyI  Brpucrham.  and  many  other  nota- 
bilities. He  did  not  relish  this  '*  lionizing,"  but  he  accepted 
these  demonstrations  as  a  valuable  moral  aid  and  encourage- 
ment to  his  work.  Mr.  Maguire  tells  a  story  I  had  not  heard 
before,  which  is  quite  characteristic  of  Father  Mathew's  sim- 
plicity. He  was  being  taken  in  to  dinner  by  some  noble  host 
in  London,  when  he  recognized  in  one  of  the  attendant 
servants  a  man  whom  he  iiad  formerly  known  as  a  humble 
but  devoted  member  of  the  temjierance  society  in  Cork  city. 
Father  Mathew  rushed  over  to  liim,  shook  him  heartily  by 
the  hand,  and  earnestly  inquired  after  his  welfare,  above  all 
whether  he  still  was  faithful  to  his  "  pledge."  The  honored 
guest  of  the  evening  claiming  acquaintance  in  this  way  with 
one  of  the  domestics  must  have  sadly  astonished  some  of  the 
company.  But  Father  INIathew  saw  only  in  poor  James  or 
Thomas  "a  man  and  a  brother"  in  the  ranks  of  the  great 
cause. 

It  may  be  estimated  that  in  1845  the  temperance  move- 
ment had  attained  to  its  topmost  height  in  Ireland.  What 
had  it  to  show  for  itself?  What  were  its  visible  fruits  by 
this  time  ?  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  it  had  effected  an 
astonishing  transformation.  It  could  not  bring  to  Ireland 
that  prosperity  and  wealth  which  flow  from'increased  j)roduc- 
tion  or  multiplied  resources.     The  condition  of  the  bulk  of 


FATHER   MATHEW.  77 

the  population  was  at  best,  as  the  world  soon  afterwards  came 
to  know,  terribly  precarious.  But,  subject  to  this  reservation, 
it  may  be  said  that  never  had  a  people  made  within  the  same 
space  of  time  such  strides  from  hardship  to  comparative  com- 
fort, from  improvidence  tr^  tlirift^  from  the  crimes  of  mebriatft 
p^cai'nn  iiTL-fliP  r.r(]pfpr]  lii\bits  of  sol>riety  and  industry.  I 
speak  of  what  I  saw.  The  temperance  movement  had  not,  I 
repeat,  removed  the  deep-lying  political  causes  of  Irish  pov- 
erty and  crime ;  but  it  brought  to  the  humblest  some  amelior- 
ation of  his  lot;  it  banished  from  thousands  of  homes  afflic- 
tions that  politics  (as  we  use  the  phrase)  could  neither  create 
nor  cure;  it  visibly  diffused  the  feeling  of  self-respect  and 
the  virtue  of  self-reliance  among  tlie  people.  We  all  could 
note  its  influence,  not  only  in  tlieir  personal  habits,  but  in 
their  dress,  in  their  manners,  and  in  the  greater  neatness  and 
tidiness  of  their  homes.  To  this  purport  came  testimony 
from  every  side.  The  magistracy  and  police  told  of  crime 
greatly  diminished.  The  clergy  told  of  churches  better  filled 
with  sincere  and  earnest  worshippers.  Traders  rejoiced  to 
find  how  vast  was  the  increase  in  popular  expenditure  on 
articles  of  food  and  clothing  or  of  home  or  personal  comfort. 
There  is  official  evidence  in  abundance  on  the  point.  As 
early  as  1840  the  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  in  a  public 
letter,  said,  "  To  the  benefit  which  the  temperance  pledge  has 
conferred  upon  Ireland,  in  the  improved  habits  of  the  people, 
and  in  the  diminution  of  outrage,  his  Excellency  bears  grate- 
ful testimony."  Like  declarations  might  be  cited  from  ex- 
ecutive officials  throughout  the  later  years  up  to  1845.  The 
police  returns  for  the  period  are  equally  striking ;  but  so 
many  circumstances  have  to  be  weighed  and  calculated  when 
considering  the  fluctuations  in  "criminal  statistics"  in  Ire- 
land, that  as  a  general  rule  I  lay  little  stress  on  what  they 
show.  Still,  it  is  rather  convincing  to  find  that  the  annual 
committals  to  prison  in  the  seven  years  from  1839  to  1845, 

7* 


78  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

with  a  rapidly  increasing  population,  show  a  steady  decrease 
from  twelve  thousand  to  seven  thousand ;  that  the  "capital 
sentences  in  each  year  declined  gradually  jrom_sixtv-six  to 
fourteen ;  and  that  the  pennl  convictions  sank  from  nine 
hundred  in  1839  to  five  hundred  in  1845. 

Of  one  interest  in  the  country  no  doubt  the  movement 
made  a  wreck :  the  whisky  trade  was  for  the  time  almost  an- 
nihilated. In  this  connection  two  remarkable  facts  deserve  to 
be  especially  noted :  first,  that  members  of  Father  Mathew's 
own  fnmily  u-prp  l^rge  distillers,  and  were  among  the  first  to 
suffer  ruin  by  the  success  of  his  labors ;  secondly,  that  from 


first  to  last  no  complaint,  invective,  or  opposition  ever  was 
directed  against  Father  Mathew  by  those  of  his  countrymen 
whose  fortunes  he  thus  overwhelmed.  Nay,  among  the 
warmest  eulogies  that  cheered  his  career  may  be  found  the 
utterances  of  Irish  manufacturers  and  vendors  of  alcoholic 
drink.* 

But  times  of  gloom  and  sorrow  were  now  at  hand  for 
Father  Mathew  and  for  Ireland.  Already  a  canker  care 
was  gnawing  at  that  once  light  and  joyous  heart.  Troubles 
and  embarrassments,  beneath  which,  alas !  he  was  eventually 
to  sink,  were  secretly  crushing  the  mind  and  energies  of 
Father  Mathew.  Alone — single-handed — he  had  for  seven 
years  conducted  a  movement,  had  established,  extended,  and 
maintained  an  organization  such  as  no  managing  executive  in 
these  days  could  work  without  enormous  pecuniary  resources ; 
and  regular  revenues  for  the  purpose  he  had  none  whatever. 
He  seemed  to  take  little  thought  of  the  financial  ways  and 
means,  but  pushed  on  eagedyL_u:ith__the__wo£k^ree]y  incur- 

*  It  is  right  to  say  that  a  like  generous  and  unselfish  spirit  still 
exists  among  the  same  classes  in  many  parts  of  Ireland.  No  men  more 
heartily  praise  the  good  effects  of  the  voluntary  "Sunday  closing" 
adopted  throughout  Wexford  than  the  licensed  traders  themselves,  as  a 
general  rule,  do  in  that  county. 


FATHER   MATHEW.  79 

ring  all  incidental  obligations,  and  raising  funds  on  his  own 
responsibility  as  best  he  could. 

To  each  one  of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  to  whom  he  ad- 
ministered the  pledge  an  enrolment  card  and  medal  were 
given :  in  truth_the_people  seemed  to  think  it  no  binding 
vow  without  this  visible  token.  Each  member  was  supposed 
to  pay  a  shilling  for  these  symbols  of  enrolment ;  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  not  more  than  half  the  number  so  paid.  On 
the  contrary,  too  often  so  wretched  was  the  plight  of  the  hap- 
less victim  of  intemperance  who  knelt  before  him  that  Father 
Mathew's  generous  hand  was  outreached  not  only  with  a 
blessing  but  a  dole.  In  1845  he  was  in  debt  to  medal  man- 
ufacturers and  others  on  behalf  of  the  temperance  movement 
some  five  thousand  pounds.  He  had  long  groaned  under  the 
burden  unknown  to  the  world,  unwilling,  I  believe,  to  dis- 
close the  source  on  which  he  relied  for  sometime  liquidating 
these  claims.  Lady  Elizabeth  Mathew,  his  earliest  and  most 
constant  friend,  had  intimated  to  him  her  intention  of  be- 
queathing him  a  substantial  token  of  her  admiration  for  his 
work  and  esteem  for  himself.  Like  many  another  generous 
purpose  of  a  similar  character,  this  was  doomed  to  be  un- 
fulfilled. Death  called  too  suddenly  on  the  intending  bene- 
factress, and  Father  Mathew  found  himself  haunted  by  the 
tortures  that  dog  the  debtor's  path. 

That  the  country  would  have  freely  come  to  his  relief  in 
this  matter,  as  an  obvious  act  of  duty  and  of  gratitude,  surely 
cannot  be  doubted ;  but  coincidently  with  the  revelation  of 
his  embarrassments  came  events  that  paralyzed  the  public 
mind.  The  famine,  that  stupendous  calamity  which  no  one 
can  recall  without  a  shudder,  had  burst  on  the  hapless  land. 
In  the  fierce  struggle  for  existence,  the  desperate  eifort  to 
save  the  people,  every  other  public  duty  was  suspended ;  and 
Father  Mathew's  labors  from  1846  to  1850  were  one  pro- 
longed combat  with  the  terrible  scourge  that  desolated  the 


80  ^EW  IRELAND. 

country.  Bravely,  uncomplainingly,  unfalteringly,  he  worked 
on,  amidst  the  wreck  of  every  hope,  the  overthrow  of  all  he 
loved  and  prized.  In  May,  1847,  he  was  nominated  by  the 
clergy  of  Cork  for  the  then  vacant  mitre  of  that  diocese ;  but 
the  choice  was  pot  confirmed  at  Rome,  and  a  new  disappoint- 
ment tried  his  sinking  soul.  In  the  same  year  the  Govern- 
ment, aware  of  his  embarrassed  circumstances,  bestowed  on 
him  a  grant  of  three  hundred  pounds  a  year,  which  he  forth- 
witli  devoted  to  paying  for  an  insurance  on  his  life  to  indem- 
nify his  creditors.  Mental  and  physical  wear  ancTtear  such 
as  he  endured  proved  too  much  for  even  his  once  splendid 
constitution.  In  the  spring  of  1848  he  was  attacked  by  pa- 
ralysis,— an  ominons  premonition.  Although  he  recovered  in 
a  few  weeks,  and  in  the  following  year  visited  America,  where 
he  remained  till  the  close  of  1851,  he  was  never  again  the 
same  man.  In  February,  1852,  paralysis  assailed  him  for 
the  second  time,  and  from  that  date  forward  all  friends  could 
see  that  active  life  for  him  M'as  over.  In  October,  1854,  he 
went  to  ^Madeira,  and  tried  for  a  year  what  balm  its  breezes 
might  bring.  Next  year  he  came  home,  and  found,  I  verily 
believe,  more  solace  and  relief  under  the  tender  care  and 
affectionate  attentions  of  Protestant  friends  in  Liverpool,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Rathbone,  than  amidst_the  vineyards  and  orange 
groves  of  the  sunny  Southernis[e.  In  1856  he  came,  or 
rather  was  brought,  to  Queenstown.  He  himself  by  this 
time  felt  that  the  end  was  not  afar  off,  and  he  fain  would  die 
amidst  the  familiar  faces  and  scenes  of  home.  On  the  8th  of 
December,  1856,  a  wail  of  sorrow  in  the  crowded  streets  of 
Cork  city  told  that  one  fondly  loved,  yea,  idolized,  by  the 
people,  was  no  more.  Not  Ireland  alone,  but  all  Christen- 
dom, mourned  a  true  hero  in  "  the  Apostle  of  Temperance." 
I  have  said  that  the  astonishing  success  of  the  temperance 
movement  from  1838  to  1845  was  largely  the  product  of  en- 
thusiasm, and  was   certain   to   be   followed   by  a  reaction. 


FATHER  MA  THE  W.  81 

Even  if  no  unusual  misfortune  had  befallen,  some  such  retro- 
cession would,  I  am  confident,  have  been  suiFered,  but  nothing 
that  would  have  seriously  impaired  the  reformation  which 
Father  Mathew  had  wrought.  Few  words  are  needed  to 
explain  how  such  an  event  as  the  famine  wrecked  this  great 
work,  as  it  did  many  another  noble  enterprise,  moral  and 
material,  at  the  time.  It  was  as  if  a  great  wave  submerged 
the  island,  burying,  obliterating,  or  sweeping  away  every- 
thing. When  that  fearful  deluge  subsided,  and  the  moun- 
tain-tops began  to  reappear,  a  scene  of  utter  desolation  came 
to  view. 

The  circumstances  under  which  the  drink-curse  arose  anew 
among  the.  Irish  people  are  painfully  reproachful  to  our  law- 
makers and  administrators.  There  were  scores,  probably 
hundreds,  of  districts  in  Ireland  from  which  drink-shops  had 
long  totally  disappeared ;  and  had  there  been  at  the  time  any 
statutable  conservation  of  this  "  free-soil"  area,  three-fourths 
of  Father  Mathew's  work  would  have  endured  to  the  present 
hour.  But  what  happened  within  my  own  experience  and  ob- 
servation was  this.  When  the  Government  relief _works  were 
set  on  foot  all  over  the  kingdom,  close  by  every  pay-officeor 
depot  there  started  into  operation  a  meal-store  and  a  whisky- 
shop ;  nay,  often  the  pay-clerks  and  roacTstaff  lodged  in  the 
latter  and  made  it  "  headquarters."  Only  too  well  the 
wretched  people  knew  what  the  fire-water  would  do  for 
them;  it  would  bring  them  oblivion  or  excitement,  in  which 
the  horror  and  despair  around  them  would  be  forgotten  for  a 
while.  In  many  a  tale  of  shipwreck  we  read  with  wonder 
that  at  the  last  dread  moment  the  crew  broached  the  spirit- 
casks  and  drank  till  delirium  came.  In  Ireland  the  starving 
people  seemed  possessed  by  some  similar  infatuation  when 
once  more  the  fatal  lure  was  set  up  before  them.  In  the 
track  of  the  Government  relief  staff,  and  special lv_li lii:i£.nsed" 
by  law,  the  drink-shops  reappeared,  and,  to  a  large  extent. 


32  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

reconquered  what  they  had  lost.  Not  wholly,  however. 
There  are  thousands  of  men  in  Ireland  to-day  who  "  took 
the  pledge  from  Father  Mathew"  and  hold  by  it  still.  There 
are  cities  and  towns  in  which  the  flag  has  never  been  hauled 
down,  and  where  its  adherents  are  now  as  numerous  as  ever. 
To  the  movement  of  Father  Mathew  is  owing,  moreover, 
that  public  opinion  in  favor  of  temperance  eifort,  that  parlia- 
mentary vote  in  favor  of  temperance  legislation,  which  Ireland 
has'^so  notably  and  so  steadily  exhibited.  The  pure-souled 
and  great-hearted  Capuchin  has  not  lived  and  labored  in  vain. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"the  black  forty-seven." 

There  is  probably  no  subject  on  which  such  painful  mis- 
understanding and  bitter  recrimination  have  prevailed  between 
the  peoples  of  England  and  Ireland  as  the  Irish  famine.  The 
enmities  and  antagonisms  arising  out  of  other  historical  events 
were,  at  all  events,  comprehensible.  The  havoc  and  devas- 
tation which  ensued  upon  the  Royalist-Crorawellian  war  of 
1641-1650,  the  confiscations  and  proscriptions  which  followed 
the  Stuart  struggle  in  1690,  the  insurrection  of  1798,  and 
the  overthrow^  of  the  Irish  constitution  in  1800,  were  causes 
of  ire,  on  the  one  side  or  the  other,  as  to  the  reality  of  which 
there  was  at  least  no  controversy.  But  it  was  not  so  in  this 
case.  The  English  people,  remembering  only  the  sympathy 
and  compassion  which  they  felt,  the  splendid  contributions 
which  they  freely  bestowed  in  that  sad  time,  are  shocked  and 
angered  beyond  endurance  when  they  hear  Irishmen  refer  to 
the  famine  as  a  "slaughter."  In  Ireland,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  burning  memory  of  horrors  which  more  prompt  and  com- 
petent action  on  the  part  of  the  ruling  authorities  might  have 
considerably  averted  seems  to  overwhelm  all  other  recollection, 
and  the  noble  generosity  of  the  English  people  appears  to  be 
forgotten  in  a  frenzy  of  reproach  against  the  English  Gov- 
ernment of  that  day. 

I  know  not  whether  the  time  has  even  yet  arrived  when 
that  theme  can  be  fairly  treated,  and  when  a  calm  and  just 
apportionment  of  blame  and  merit  may  be  attempted.  To-day, 
full  thirty  years  after  the  event,  I  tremble  to  contemplate  it. 

In  1841  the  population  of  Ireland  was  8,175,124  souls. 

83 


84  ^'^"^  IRELAND. 

By  1845  it  had  probably  reached  tojoearly  nine  millions. 
The  increase  had  been  fairly  conTnTuous  foraT^east  a  century, 
and  had  become  rapid  between  1820  and  1840.  To  any  one 
looking  beneath  the  surface  the  condition  of  the  country  was 
painfully  precarious.  Nine  millions  of  a  [)opulation  living 
at  best  in  a  light-hearted  and  hopeful  hand-to-mouth  con- 
tentment, totally  dependent  on  the  hazards  of  one  crop,  desti- 
tute of  manufacturing  industries,  and  utterly  without  reserve 
or  resource  to  fall  back  upon  in  time  of  reverse, — what  did 
all  this  mean  but  a  state  of  thino;s  critical  and  alarmino:  in 
the  extreme  ?  Yet  no  one  seemed  conscious  of  danger.  The 
potato  crop  had  been  jibundaut  for  four  or  five  years,  and 
respite  from  dearth  and  distress  was  comparative  happiness 
and  prosperity.  Moreover,  the  temperance  movement  had 
come  to  make  the  "good  times"  still  better.  Everything; 
looked  bright.  No  one  concerned  himself  to  discover  how 
slender  and~^reacheix)us  was  the  foundation  for  this  general 
hopefulness  and  confidence. 

Yet  signs  of  the  coming  storm  had  been  given.  Partial 
famine  caused  by  failing  harvests  had  indeed  been  intermit- 
tent in  Ireland,  and  quite  recently  warnings  that  ought  not  to 
have  been  mistaken  or  neglected  had  given  notice  that  the 
esculent  which  formed  the  sole  dependence  of  the  peasant 
millions  was  subject  to  some  mysterious  blight.  In  1844  it 
was  stricken  in  America,  but  in  Ireland  the  yield  was  healthy 
and  ])]entiful  as  ever.  The  harvest  of  1845  promised  to  be 
the  richest  gathered  for  many  years.  Suddenly,  in  one  short 
month,  in  one  week  it  might  be  said,  the  withering  breath 
of  a  simoom  seemed  to  sweep  the  land,  blasting  all  in  its  path. 
I  myself  saw  whole  tracts  of  j^otato  grcmtli  changed  in  one 
night  from  smiling  luxuriance  to  a  shrivelled  and  blackened 
waste.  A  shout  of  alarm  arose.  But  the  buoyant  nature  of 
the  Celtic  peasant  did  nofyet^-gtve-way.  The  crop  was  so 
profuse  that  it  was  expected  the  healthy  jwrtion  would  reach 


"  THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN.''  85 

an  average  result.  Winter  revealed  the  alarming  fact  that 
the  tubers  had  rotted  in  pit  and  store-house.  Nevertheless 
the  farmers,  like  hapless  men  who  double  their  stakes  to 
recover  losses,  made  only  the  more  strenuous  exertions  to  till 
a  larger  breadth  in  1846.  Although  already  feeling  the  pinch 
of  sore  distress,  if  not  actual  famine,  they  worked  as  if  for 
dear  life ;  they  begged  and  borrowed  on  any  terms  the  means 
whereby  to  crop  the  land  once  more.  The  pawn-offices  were 
choked  with  the  humble  finery  that  had  shone  at  the  village 
dance  or  christening-feast ;  the  banks  and  local  money-lenders 
were  besieged  with  appeals  for  credit.  Meals  were  stinted, 
backs  were  bared.  Anything,  anything  to  tide  over  the 
interval  to  the  harvest  of  "  Forty-six." 

Oh,  God,  it  is  a  dreadful  thought  that  all  this  effort  was 
but  more  surely  leading  them  to  ruin !  It  was  this,  harvest 
of  Forty-six  that  sealed  their  doom.  Not  partially,  but  com- 
pletely, utterly,  hopelessly,  it  perished."  As  in  the  previous 
year,  all  promised  brightly  up  to  the  close  of  July.  Then, 
suddenly,  in  a  night,  whole  areas  were  blighted ;  and  this 
time,  alas  !  no  portion  of  the  crop  escaped.  A  cry  of  agony 
and  despair  went  up  all  over  the  land.  The  last  desperate 
stake  for  life  had  been  played,  and  all  was  lost. 

The  doomed  people  realized  but  too  well  what  was  before 
them.  Last  year's  premonitory  sufferings  had  exhausted 
them  ;  and  now  ? — they  must  die ! 

My  native  district  figures  largely  in  the  gloomy  record  of 
that  dreadful  time.  I  saw  the  horrible  phantasmagoria — 
would  God  it  were  but  that ! — pass  before  my  eyes.  Blank 
stolid  dismay,  a  sort  of  stupor,  fell  upon  the  people,  con- 
trasting remarkably  with  the  fierce  energy  put  forth  a  year 
before.  It  was  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  the  cottier  and  his 
little  family  seated  on  the  garden-fence  gazing  all  day  long 
in  moody  silence  at  the  blighted  plot  that  had  been  their  last 
hope.     Nothing  could  arouse  them.     You  spoke;  they  an 


86  ^"l^W  IRELAND. 

swered  not.  You  tried  to  clieer  them ;  they  shook  their 
heads.  I  never  saw  so  sudden  and  so  terrible  a  transforma- 
tion. 

When  first  in  the  autumn  of  1845  the  partial  blight  ap- 
peared, wise  voices  were  raised  in  warning  to  the  Govern- 
ment that  a  frightful  catastrophe  was  at  hand ;  yet  even  then 
began  that  fatal  circumlocution  and  inaptness  which  it  mad- 
dens one  to  think  of.  It  would  be  utter  injustice  to  deny 
that  the  Government  made  exertions  which  judged  by  ordi- 
nary emergencies  would  be  prompt  and  considerable.  But 
judged  by  the  awful  magnitude  of  the  evil  then  at  hand  or 
actually  befallen,  they  were  fatally  tardy  and  inadequate. 
When  at  length  the  executive  did  hurry,  the  blunders  of 
precipitancy  outdid  the  disasters  of  excessive  deliberation. 

In  truth,  the  Irish  famine  was  one  of  those  stupendous 
calamities  which  the  rules  and  formulse  of  ordinary  constitu- 
tional administration  were  unable  to  cope  with,  and  which 
could  be  efficiently  encountered  only  by  the  concentration 
of  plenary  powers  and  resources  in  some  competent  "  des- 
potism" located  in  the  scene  of  disaster.  It  was  easy  to 
foresee  the  result  of  an  attempt  to  deal  "  at  long  range"  with 
such  an  evil, — to  manage  it  from  Downing  Street,  London, 
according  to  orthodox  routine.  Again  and  again  the  Gov- 
ernment were  warned,  not  by  heedless  orators  or  popular 
leaders,  but  by  men  of  the  highest  position  and  soundest 
repute  in  Ireland,  that,  even  with  the  very  best  intentions  on 
their  part,  mistake  and  failure  must  abound  in  any  attempt 
to  grapple  with  the  famine  by  the  ordinary  machinery  of 
Government.  IMany  efforts,  bold  and  able  efforts,  were  made 
by  the  Government  and  by  Parliament  eighteen  months  sub- 
sequently :  I  refer  especially  to  the  measures  taken  in  the 
session  of  1847.  But,  unfortunately,  everything  seemed  to 
come  too  late.  Delay  made  all  the  difference.  In  October, 
1845,  the  Irish  Mansion  House  Relief  Committee  implored 


''THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  87 

the  Government  to  call  Parliament  together  and  throw  open 
the  ports.  The  Government  refused.  Again  and  again  the 
terrible  urgency  of  the  case,  the  magnitude  of  the  disaster  at 
hand,  was  pressed  on  the  executive.  It  was  the  obstinate 
refusal  of  Lord  John  Russell  to  listen  to  these  remonstrances 
and  entreaties,  and  the  sad  ventication  subsequently  of  these 
apprehensions,  that  implanted  in  the  Irish  mind  the  bitter 
memories  which  still  occasionally  find  vent  in  passionate 
accusation  of  "  England." 

Not  but  that  the  Government  had  many  and  weighty  argu- 
ments in  behalf  of  the  course  they  took.  First,  they  feared 
exaggeration,  and  waited  for  official  investigation  and  report.* 
Even  when  official  testimony  was  forthcoming,  the  Cabinet  in 
London  erred,  as  the  Irish  peasantry  did,  in  trusting  some- 
what that  the  harvest  of  1846  would  change  gloom  to  joy. 
When  the  worst  came  in  1846-47,  much  precious  time  was 
lost  through  misunderstanding  and  recrimination  between  the 
Irish  landlords  and  the  executive, — charges  of  neglect  of 
duties  on  one  hand,  and  of  incapacity  on  the  other,  passing 

*  The  truth  is,  the  fight  over  the  Corn  Law  question  in  Enghmd  at 
the  time  was  peculiarly  unfortunate  for  Ireland ;  because  the  protec- 
tionist press  and  politicians  felt  it  a  duty  strenuously  to  deny  there  was 
any  danger  of  famine,  lest  such  a  circumstance  should  be  made  a  pre- 
text for  Free  Trade.  Thus,  the  Duka-j^f  Eichmond,  on  the  9th  of  De- 
cember, 1845,  speaking  at  the  Agricultural  Protection  Society,  said, 
"  "With  respect  to  the  cry  of  'Famine,'  he  believed  that  it  was  perfectly 
illusory,  and  no  man  of  respectability  could  have  put  it  in  good  faith  if 
he  had  been  acquainted  with  the  facts  within  the  knowledge  of  their 
society." 

At  "Warwick,  on  the  31st  of  December,  Mr.  Newdegate  carried  a  res- 
olution testifying  against  "the  fallacy  and  mischief  of  the  reports  of  a 
deficient  harvest,"  and  affirming  that  "  there  was  no  reasonable  ground 
for  apprehending  a  scarcity  of  food." 

Like  declarations  abounded  in  England  up  to  a  late  period  of  the 
famine,  and,  no  doubt,  considerably  retarded  the  promjjt  action  of  the 
Government. 


88  NEW  IRELAND. 

freely  to  and  fro.  No  doubt  the  Government  feared  waste, 
prodigality,  and  abuse  if  it  placed  absolute  power  and  un- 
limited supplies  in  the  hands  of  an  Irish  board ;  and  one  must 
allow  that,  to  a  commercial-minded  people,  the  violations 
of  the  doctrines  of  political  economy  involved  in  every  sug- 
gestion and  demand  shouted  across  the  Channel  from  Ireland 
were  very  alarming.  Yet  in  the  end  it  was  found — all  too 
late,  unfortunately — that-those— doctrines  were  inapplicable 
in  such  a  case.  They  had  to  be  flung  aside  in  1847.  Had 
they  been  discarded  a  year  or  tw7rsooner,~armillion  of  lives 
might  have  been  saved.        ~  

The  situation  bristled  with  difficulties.  "Do  not  de- 
moralize tlie  people  by  pauper  doles,  but  give  them  employ- 
ment," said  one  counsellor.  "Beware  how  you  interfere 
with  the  labor-market,"  answered  another.  "  It  is  no  use 
voting  millions  to  be  paid  away  on  relief  works  while  you 
allow  the  price  of  food  to  be  run  up  four  hundred  per  cent. ; 
set  up  Government  depots  for  sale  of  food  at  reasonable 
price,"  cried  manyjiase  and  far-seeing  men.  "  Utterly  op- 
posed to  tiie  teachings  of  Aclam  Smjth,"  responded  Lord 
John  Russell. 

At  first  the  establishment  of  })ublic  soup-kitchens  under 
local  relief  committees,  subsidized  by  Government,  was  relied 
upon  to  arrest  the  famine.  I  doubt  if  the  Avorld  ever^aw  so 
huge  a  demoralization^  so  great  a  degradation,  visited  upon  a 
once  high-spirited_and_sensitive  peo])le.  All  over  the  country 
large  iron  boilers  were  set  up  in  which  what  was  called  "soup" 
was  concocted, — later  on,  Indian-meal  stirabout  was  boiled. 
Around  these  boilers  on  the  roadside  there  daily  moaned  and 
shrieked  and  fought  and_§cuffled  crowds  of  gaunt,  cadav- 
erous creatures  that  once  had  been  men  and  women  made  in 
the  image  of  God.  The  feeding  of  dogs  in  a  kennel  was  far 
more  decent  and  orderly.  I  once  thought — ay,  and  often  bit- 
terly said,  in  public  and  in  private — that  never,  never  would 


^'THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN.''  89 

our  people  recover  the  shameful  humiliation  of  that  brutal 
public  soup-boiler  scheme.  I  frequently  stood  and  watched 
the  scene  till  tears  blinded  me  and  I  almost  choked  with  grief 
and  passion.  It  was  heart-breaking,  almost  maddening,  to 
see ;  but  help  for  it  there  was  none. 

The  Irish  poor-law  system  early  broke  down  under  tlie 
strain  which  the  famine  imposed.  Until  1846  the  work- 
houses were  shunned  and  detested  by  the  Irish  poor.  Relief 
of  destitution  had  always  been  regarded  by  the  Irish  as  a 
sort  of  religious  duty  or  fraternal  succor.  Poverty  was  a 
misfortune,  not  a  crime.  When,  however,  relierwas"offered, 
on  the  penal  condition  of  an  imprisonment  that  sundered  the 
family  tie,  and  which,  by  destroying  home,  howsoever  hum- 
ble,  shut  out  all  hope  of  future  recovery,  it  was  indignantly 
spurned.  Scores  of  times  I  have  seen  some  poor  widow 
before  the  workhouse  board  clasp  her  little  children  tightly  to 
her  heart  and  sob  aloud,  "  No,  no,  your  honor.  If  they 
are  to  be  parted  from  me,  I'll  not  come  in.  I'll  beg  the  wide 
world  with  them." 

But  soon  beneath  the  devouring  pangs  of  starvation  even 
this  holy  affection  had  to  give  way,  and  the  famishing  people 
poured  into  the  workhouses,  which  soon  choked  with  the 
dying  and  the  dead^ -^a^^t-pSvatujJiS-had^  b^en  endured  in 
every  case  before  this  hated  ordeal  was  faced,  that  the  people 
entered  the  Bastille  merely  to  die.  The  parting  scenes  of 
husband  and  wife,  father  and  mother  and  children,  at  the 
board-room  door  would  melt  a  heart  of  stone.  Too  well  they 
felt  it  was  to  be  an  eternal  severance,  and  that  this  loving 
embrace  was  to  be  their  last  on  earth.  The  warders  tore  them 
asunder, — the  husband  from  the  wife,  the  mother  from  the 
child, — for  "discipline"  required  that  it  should  be  so.  But, 
with  the  famine-fever  in  every  ward,  and  the  air  around  them 
laden  with  disease  and  death,  they  knew  their  fate,  and  parted 
like  victims  at  the  foot  of  the  guillotine. 

8* 


90  NEW  IRELAND. 

It  was  not  long  until  the  workhouses  overflowed  and  could 
admit  no  more.  Rapidly  as  the  death-rate  made  vacancies, 
the  pressure  of  applicants  overpowered  all  resources.  Worse 
still,  bankruptcy  came  on  many  a  union.  In  some  the  poor- 
rate  rose  to  twenty-two  shillings  on  the  pound,  and  very  nearly 
the  entire  rural  population  of  several  were  needing  relief.  In 
a  few  cases,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  the  horrible  idea  seemed  to 
seize  the  land-owners  on  the  boards  that  all  rates  would  be 
ineffectual,  and  that,  as  their  imposition  would  result  only  in 
ruining  "  property,"  it  was  as  well  to  "  let  things  take  their 
course."  Happily  an  act  of  Parliament  was  passed  in  1846 
which  gave  the  poor-law  commissioners  in  Dublin  power  to 
deal  with  cases  of  delay  or  refusal  to  make  adequate  provision 
for  maintenance  of  the  workhouse.  All  such  boards  were 
abolished  by  sealed  order,  and  paid  vice-guardians  were  ap- 
pointed in  their  place.  To  these,  as  well  as  to  elected  boards 
willing  to  face  their  duty,  the  commissioners  were  empowered 
to  advance,  by  way  of  loan,  secured  on  the  lands  within  the 
union,  funds  sufficient  to  carry  on  the  poor-law  system.  Had 
it  not  been  for  this  arrangement,  the  workhouses  would  have 
closed  altogether  in  many  parts  of  the  country. 

The  conduct  of  the  Irish  landlords  throughout  the  fomine- 
period  has  been  variously  described,  and  has  been,  I  believe, 
generally  condemned.  I  consider  the  censure  visited  on 
them  too  sweeiiing.  I  hold  it  to  be  in  some  respects  cruelly 
unjust.  On  mahy  of  them  no  blame  too  heavy  could  possibly 
fall.  A  large  number  were  permanent  absentees ;  their  ranks 
were  swelled  by  several  who  early  fled  the  post  of  duty  at 
home, — cowardly  and  selfish  deserters  of  a  brave  and  faithful 
people.  Of  those  who  remained,  some  may  have  grown 
callous :  it  is  impossible  to  contest  authentic  instances  of 
brutal  heartlessness  here  and  there.  But,  granting  all  that 
has  to  be  entered  on  the  dark  debtor  side,  the  overwhelming 
balance  is  the  other  way.     The  bulk  of  the  resident  Irish 


''THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  9] 

landlords  manfully  did  their  best  in  that  dread  hour.*  If 
they  did  too  little  compared  with  what  the  landlord  class  in 
England  would  have  done  in  similar  case,  it  was  because  little 
was  in  their  power.  The  famine  found  most  of  the  resident 
landed  gentry  of  Ireland,  on  the  brink  of  ruin.  They  were 
heritors  of  estates  heavily  overweighted  with  the  debts  of  a_ 
bygone  generation.  Broad  lands  alid  lordly  mansions  were 
held  by  them  on  settlements  and  conditions  that  allowed  small 
scope  for  the  exercise  of  individual  liberality.  To  these  land- 
owners the  failure  of  one  year's  rental  receipts  meant  mort- 
gage-foreclosure and  hopeless  ruin.  Yet  cases  might  be 
named  by  the  score  in  which  such  men  scorned  to  avert  by 
pressure  on  their  suffering  tenantry  the  fate  they  saw  im- 
pending over  them.     They  "went  down  with  the  ship." 

In  the  autumn  of  1846  relief  works  were  set  on  foot,  the 
Government  having  received  parliamentary  authority  to  grant 
baronial  loans  for  such  undertakings.  There  might  have 
been  found  many  ways  of  applying  these  funds  in  reproduc- 
tive employment,  but  the  modes  decided  on  were  draining 
and  road-making.  Of  course  it  was  not  possible  to  provide 
very  rapidly  the  engineering  staff  requisite  for  surveying  and 
laying  out  so  many  thousands  of  new  roads  all  over  the  coun- 
try ;  but  eventually  the  scheme  was  somehow  hurried  into 


*  No  adequate  tribute  has  ever  been  paid  to  the  memory  of  those  Irish 
landlords — and  they  were  men  of  every  party  and  creed— who  perished 
martyrs  to  duty  in  that  awful  time  ;  who  did  not  fly  the  plague-reeking 
workhouse  or  fever-tainted  court.  Their  names  would  make  a  goodly 
roll  of  honor.  The  people  of  Bantry  still  mourn  for  Mr.  Eichard  White 
of  Inchiclogh,  cousin  of  Lord  Bantry,  who  early  fell  in  this  way..  Mr. 
Martin,  M.P., — "  Dick  MartTn^'^ l*rince  of  Connemara, — caught  fever 
while  acting  as  a  magistrate,  and  was  swept  away.  One  of  the  most 
touching  stories  I  ever  heard  was  that  told  me  by  an  eye-witness  of 
how  Mr.  Nolan  of  Ballinderry  (father  of  Captain  J.  P.  Nolan,  M.P.), 
braving  the  deadly  typhus  in  Tuam  workhouse,  was  struck  down, 
amidst  the  grief  of  a  people  who  mourn  him  to  this  day. 


92  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

operation.  The  result  was  in  every  sense  deplorable  failure. 
The  wretched  people  were  by  this  time  too  wasted  and  ema- 
ciated to  work.  The  endeavor  to  do  so  under  an  inclement 
winter  sky  only  hastened  death.  They  tottered  at  daybreak 
to  the  roll-call,  vainly  tried  to  w'heel  the  barrow  or  ply  the 
pick,  but  fainted  away  on  the  "cutting,"  or  lay  down  on  the 
wayside  to  rise  no  more.  As  for  the  "  roads"  on  AA^hich  so 
much  money  was  wasted,  and  on  which  so  many  lives  were 
sacrificed,  hardly  any  of  them  were  finished.  Miles  of  grass- 
grown  earthworks  throughout  the  country  now  mark  their 
course  and  commemorate  for  posterity  one  of  the  gigantic 
blunders  of  the  famine-time. 

The  first  remarkable  sign  of  the  havoc  which  death 
was  making  was  the  decline  and  disappearance  of  funerals. 
Among  the  Irish  people  a  funeral  was-algays  a  great  display, 
and  participation  in  the  procession  was  for  all  neighbors  and 
friends  a  sacred  duty.  A  "  poor"  funeral — that  is,  one  thinly 
attended — was  considered  disrespectful  to  the  deceased  and 
reproachful  tojhe  living.  Thejiujiiblia£j)easant  was  borne 
to  the  grave  by  aparocHTal  cortege.  But  one  could  observe 
in  the  summer  of  '46  that,  as  funerals  became  more  frequent, 
there  was  a  rapid  decline  in  the  number  of  attendants,  until 
at  length  persons  were  stopped  on  the  road  and  requested  to 
assist  in  conveying  the  coffin  a  little  way  farther.  Soon,  alas! 
neither  coffin  nor  shroud  could  be  supplied.  Daily  in  the 
street  and  on  the  footway  some  poor  creature  lay  down  as  if 
to  sleep,  and  presently  was  stiff  and  stark.  In  our  district  it 
was  a  common  occurrence  to  find  on  opening  the  front  door 
in  early  morning,  leaning  against  it,  the  corpse  of  some  vic- 
tim who  in  the  night-time  had  "rested"  in  its  shelter.  AVe 
raised  a  public  subscription,  and  employed  two  men  with 
horse  and  cart  to  go  round  each  day  and  gather  up  the  dead. 
One  by  one  they  were  taken  to  a  great  pit  at  Ardiiabrahair 
Abbey,  and  dropped  through  the  hinged  bottom  of  a  "  trap- 


''THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  93 

coffin"  iutoa  common  ^rave  below.  In  the  remoter  rural 
districts  even  this  rude  sepulture  was  impossible.  In  the 
field  and  by  the  ditch-side  the  victims  lay  as  they  fell,  till 
some  charitable  hand  was  found  to  cover  them  with  the 
adjacent  soil. 

It  Avas  the  fever  which  supervened  on  the  famine  that 
wrought  the  greatest  slaughter  and  spread  the  greatest  terror. 
For  this  destroyer  when  it  came  spared  no  class,  rich  or  poor. 
As  long  as  it  was  "  the  hunger"  alone  that  raged,  it  was  no 
deadly  peril  to  visit  the  sufferers;  but  not  so  now.  To^come 
within  the  reach  of  this  contagion  was  certain  death.  Whole 
families  perished  unvisited  aiid  unassisted.  By  levelling 
above  their  corpses^  the  slieeling  in  winch  they  died,  the 
neighbors  gave  them  a  grave.* 

No  pen  can  trace  nor  tongue  relate  the  countless  deeds  of 
heroism  and  self-sacrifice  which  this  dreadful  visitation  called 
forth  on  the  part,  pre-eminently,  of  two  classes  in  the  commu- 
nity,— the  Catholic  clergy  and  the  dispensary  doctoi^  of  Ire- 
land. I  have  named  the  Catholic  clergy,  not  that  those  of 
the  Protestant  denominations  did  not  furnish  many  instances 
of  devotion  fully  as  striking,!  but  because  on  the  former  ob- 

*  I  myself  assisted  in  such  a  task,  under  heart-rending  circumstances, 
in  June,  1847. 

f  The  Protestant  curate  of  my  native  parish  in.  1847  was  the  Rev. 
Alexander  Ben  Hallowell,  subsequently  rector  of  Clonakilty,  and  now 
I  believe  residing  somewhere  in  Lancashire.  There  were  comparatively 
few  of  his  own  flock  in  a  way  to  sutfer  from  the  famine ;  but  he  dared  death 
daily  in  his  desperate  efforts  to  save  the  perishing  creatures  around  him. 
A  poor  hunchback  named  RichardjO'Brien  lay  dying  of  the  plague  in  a 
deserted  hovel  at  a  jSlSce "called  "  the  Custom  Gap."  Mr.  Hallowell, 
passing  by,  heard  the  moans,  and  went  in.  A  shocking  sight  met  his 
view.  On  some  rotten  straw  in  a  dark  corner  lay  poor  "  Dick,"  naked, 
except  for  a  few  rags  across  his  body.  Mr.  Hallowell  rushed  to  the  door 
and  saw  a  young  friend  on  the  road.  "Run,  run  with  this  shilling  and 
buy  me  some  wine,"  he  cried.  Then  he  re-entered  the  hovel,  stripped  off" 
his  own  clothes,  and  with  his  own  hands  put  upon  the  plague-stricken 


94 


NEW  IRELAND. 


,r 


N 


viously  fell  the  bruut  of  the  trial.  For  them  there  was  no 
flinching.  A  call  to  administer  the  last  rites  of_religion  to 
the  inmate  of  a  plnnmp-wnrrl  qr  fpt'f.r-ghpr|  f^iusf^U^  and  is, 
obeyed  by  the  rVitholic  prir^t^  though  jjeath  to  himself  be  the 
well-known  consequence.  The  fatality  among  the  two  classes 
I  have  mentioned,  clergymen  and  doctor,  was  lamentable. 
Christian  heroes,  martyre  for  humanity,  their  names  are 
blazoned  on  no  courtly  roll ;  yet  shall  they  shine  upon  an 
eternal  page,  brighter  than  the  stars ! 

But  even  this  dark  cloud  of  the  Irish  famine  had  its  silver 
lining.  If  it  is  painful  to  recall  the  disastrous  errors  of  irreso- 
lution and  panic,  one  can  linger  gratefully  over  memories  of 
Samaritan  philanthropy,  of  efficacious  generosity,  of  tender^st 
sympathy.  The  })eople  of  England  behaved  nobly;  and 
assuredly  not  less  mimifiiient  were  the  citizens  of  the  great 
American  Republic.  A\jiicli  had  already  become  the  home  of 
thousands  of  the  Irish  rac?:~^  From  every  considerable  town 
in  England  there  poured  subscriptions,  amounting  in  the 
aggregate  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds.  From 
America  came  a  truly  touciiing  demonstration  of  national 
sympathy.  Some  citizens  of  the  States  contributed  two  ship- 
loads of  hrcadstuffs,  and  the  American  Government  decided  to 
furnish  the  ships  which  should  bring  the  otfering  to  the  Irish 
shore.  Accordingly,  two  war-vessels,  the  "  Macedonian"  and 
the  ''Jamestown"  frigates,  having  had  their  armaments  re- 
moved, their  "gun-decks"  displaced  and  cargo  bulk-heads  put 
up,  were  filled  to  the  gunwale  with  best  American  flour  and 
biscuits,  and  despatched  on  their  errand  of  mercy.  It  hap- 
pened that  just  previously  the  British  naval  authorities  had 
rather  strictly  refused  the  loan  of  a  ship  for  a  like  purpc^, 


hunchback  the  flannel  vest  and  drawers  and  the  shirt  of  which  he  had 
just  divested  himself.  I  know  this  to  be  true.  /  was  the  "  young 
friend"  who  went  for  and  brouc:ht  the  wine. 


' '  THE  BLA  CK  FOR  TY-SE  VEN. "  95 

as  being  quite  opposed  to  all  departmental  regulations  (which, 
to  be  sure,  it  was),  and  a  good  deal  of  angry  feeling  was 
called  forth  by  the  refusal.  Yet  had  it  a  requiting  contrast 
in  the  despatch  from  England,  by  voluntary  associations 
there,  of  several  deputations  or  embassies  of  succor,  charged 
to  visit  personally  the  districts  in  Ireland  most  severely 
afflicted  and  to  distribute  with  then'  own  hands  the  benefac- 
tions they  brought. 

Foremost  in  this  blessed  work  were  the  Society  of  Friends, 
the  English  members  of  that  body  co-operating, with  its  Central 
committee  in  Dublin.  Among  the  most  active  and  fearless 
of  their  representatives  was  a  young  Yorkshire  Quaker,  whose 
nalne,  I  doubt  not,  is  still  warmly  remembered  by  Connemara 
peasants.  He  drove  from  village  to  village,  he  walked  bog 
and  moor,  rowed  the  lake  and  climbed  the  mountain,  fought 
death,  as  it  were,  hand  to  hand,  in  brave  resolution  to  save 
the  people.  His  cox'respondence  from  the  scene  of  hi.s  labors 
would  constitute  in  itself  a  graphic  memorial  of  the  Irish 
famine.  That  young  "Yorkshire  Quaker"  of  1847  was  /^^t5'*<- ' 
destined  a  quarter  of  a  century  later  to  be  known  to  the  r  y  r-T 
empire  as  a  minister  of  the  Crown, — the  Ri":ht  Hon.  "NY.  E. 
Forst^r^JI^E^-^  '  ^T^OIS  7^*^ 

In  truth,  until  the  appearance  a  few  years  since  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  O'Rorke's  excellent  volume,  the  "  History  of  the  Irish 
Famine,"  the  only  competent  record  of  the  events  of  that 
time  was  the  '^  Report  of  the  Society  of  Friends'  Irish  Relief 
Committee."  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  traveller  who 
now  visits  the  west  and  south  of  Ireland,  and  seeks  to  gather 
from  the  people  reminiscences  of  the  famine-time,  will  find 
praise  and  blame  a  good  deal  mingled  as  to  nearly  every  other 
relief  agency  of  the  period,  but  naught  save  grateful  recollec- 
tion of  the  unostentatious,  kindly,  prompt,  generous,  and  effi- 
cacious action  of  the_Jjdeiul2i_£ommittee.  Fondly  as  the 
Catholic  Irish  revere  the  meraory^of  their  own  priests  who 


96  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

suffered  with  and  died  for  them  in  that  fearful  time,  they 
give  a  place  in  their  prayers  to  the  "  good  Quakers,  God  bless 
them,"  Jonathan  Pira,  Richard  Allen,  Richard  Webb,  and 
William  Edward  Forster. 

The  Irish  famine  of  1847  had  results,  social  and  political, 
that  constitute  it  one  of  the  most  important  events  in  Irish 
history  for  more  than  two  hundred  years.  It  is  impossible 
for  any  one  who  knew  the  country  previous  to  that  period, 
and  who  has  thoughtfully  studied  it  since,  to  avoid  the  con- 
clusion that  so  much  has  been  destroyed,  or  so  greatly  changed, 
that  the  Ireland  of  old  times  will  be  seen  no  more. 

The  losses  will,  I  would  fain  hope,  be  in  a  great  degree 
repaired,  the  gains  entirely  retained.  Yet  much  that  was 
precious  was  engulfed,  I  fear,  beyond  recovery.  "  Here  are 
twenty  miles  of  country,  sir,"  said  a  dispensary  doctor  to  me, 
"and  before  the  famine  there  was  not  a  padlock  from  end  to 
end  of  it."  Under  the  pressure  of  hunger,ravenous  creatures 
prowled  around  barn  and  store-house,  stealing  corn,  potatoes, 
cabbage,  turnips, — anything,  in  a  word,  that  might  be  eaten. 
Later  on,  the  fields  had  to  bewatclied,_giiii^  in  hand,  or  the 
seed  was  rooted  up  and  devoured  raw.  This  state  of  things 
struck  a  fatal  blow  at  some  of  the  most  beautiful  traits  of 
Irish  rural  life.  It  destroyed  the  simple  eonfidt'nce  that 
bolted  no  door ;  it  banished  forever  acustom_which  tlirouo:h- 
out  the  island  was  of  almost  universal  obligation, — the  housing 
for  the  uiglit,  with  cheerful  welcome,  of  any  poor  wayfarer 
mIio  claimed  hospifalifyr  Feai^oT^'  tli-e  fever,"  even  where 
no  apprehension  of  robbery  was  entertained,  closed  every 
door,  and  the  custom,  once  killed  off,  has  not  revived.  A 
thousand  kindly  usages  and  neighborly  courtesies  were  swept 
away.  When  sam^e  qui  pent  has  resounded  throughout  a 
country  for  three  years  of  alarm  and  disaster,  human  nature 
becomes  contracted  in  its  sympathies,  and  "  evewL  pne_J(Q 
himself"  becomes  a  maxim  of  life  and  conduct  long  after. 


^^THE  BLACK  FORTY-SEVEN."  97 

The  open-handed,  open-hearted  ways  of  the  rural  population 

have  been   visibly  affected    by  the    "  Forty-seven"   ordeal. 

Their  ancient  sports  and  pastimes  everywhere  disappeared, 

and  in  many  parts  of  Ireland   have   never  returned.     The    j-Oir^j 

out-door  games,  the  hurliug-match,  and  the  village  dance  are       "  0 

seen  no  more.  /£~w-l.x^        \ 

With  the  greater  seriousness  of  character  which  the  famine- 
period  has  imprinted  on  the  Irish  people,  some  notable  changes 
for  the  better  must  be  recognized.  Providence,  forethought, 
economy,  are  studied  and  valued  as  they  never  were  before. 
There  is  more  method,  strictness,  and  punctuality  in  business 
transactions.  There  is  a  graver  sense  of  responsibility  on  all 
hands.  For  the  first  time  the  future  seems  to  be  earnestly 
thought  of,  and  its  possible  vicissitudes  kept  in  view.  JVJore 
steadiness  of  purpose,  more  firmn^s  and  determination  of 
character,  mark  the  Irish  peasantry  of  the~new  era.  Grod  has 
willed  that  in  the  midst  of  such  awful  sufferings  some  share 
of  blessings  should  fall  on  the  sorely-shattered  nation. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

"young    IRELAND." 

Fletcher  of  Saltoun  is  credited  with  the  saying,  "  Let 
me  make  the  ballads,  and  let  whoso  will  make  the  laws."  No 
doubt  it  was  through  ballads  popular  feeling  was  moved  and 
developed  in  those  days.  If  Fletcher  lived  now,  he  would 
say,  "  Let  me  use  the  printing-press,  and  let  who  pleases  be 
premier." 

Whoever  attentively  studies  the  changes  in  Irish  political 
life — in  its  modes  of  thought  and  action — within  the  past 
forty  years,  must  assign  an  inij)ortant  place  among  the  factors 
in  those  changes  to  that  scliool  of  jwlitician-litterateurs  known 
as  "  Young  Ireland."  Their  name  and  fate  as  a  party  are, 
unfortunately  for  them,  so  generally  associated  with  one  dis- 
astrous incident  of  their  political  career — the  insurrectionary 
attempt  of  1848 — that  an  erroneous  idea  is  acquired  of  their 
real  status,  aims,  and  policy ;  an  unjust  estimate  is  formed  of 
their  labors. 

"  Young  Ireland,"  so  called,  was  a  section  or  offshoot  of 
O'Connell's  Repeal  party,  the  latter  being  antithetically  des- 
ignated "Old  Ireland."  "Young"  and  "Old,"  however, 
they  were  alike  Repealers ;  that  is,  their  great  political  object, 
the  cardinal  doctrine  of  their  creed,  was  the  reposj^ession  by 
Ireland  of  the  native  legislature  wrenched  from  lier  by  Pitt 
in  1800.  But  many  notable  circumstances  marked  the  Young 
Irelanders  as  a  totally  new  school  in  Irish  politics.  They 
first,  within  our  generation,  essayed  as  a  party  the  task  of 
purifying  the  pr>i;fw22]jl|3'f>^l^'^''^;  "^  T-pmlprinor  Irish  parlia- 
mentary action  "something  better  and  nobler  thaua^_i:£nal^ 
98  ^^         ^-^^ 


''YOUNG   IRELAND:'  99 

scramble  for  place,  or  an  abject,  servitude  of  faction.  They 
first  taught  the  doctrine  that  the  people  should  be  appealed 
to  in  their  intelligence  rather  than  impelled  through  their 
prejudices.  They  boldly  proclaimed  that  individual  respon- 
sibility  and  self-reliance  should  take  the  place  of  utter  depend- 
ence on  leaders,  lay  ojr  clerical.  They  first  seized  upon  the 
printing-press  and  the  school  as  the  great  agencies  of  popular 
enfranchisement.  The  motto  on  their  banner  epitomized 
their  creed  and  indicated  the  means  and  end  of  their  policy : 
"  Educate  that  you  may  be  free." 

Forty  years  ago  the  typical  Irish  representative  was  still 
in  a  large  degree  the  swaggering,  horse-racings  duel-fighting, 
hard-drinking,-&p£ttdtlini]L  style  of  patriot  ])ortraved  by  the 
pen  of  Charles  Lever.  The  time  had  not  yet  come  when 
personal  integrity  and  jmrity  of  private  life  and  character 
were  weighed  in  estimating  a  mail's  title  to  puBTtc  confidence 
and  esteem.  The  "  popular  member"  in  those  days  was 
returned  by  a  combination  of-pa^riotic_jeiithusiasm  and  re- 
ligious influence,  supjilemented  byj;he__necessary  amount  of 
bribery  and  intimidation.  As  to  these,  "  the  other  side  began 
first"  of  course  ;  and  then  the  distribution  of  five-pound 
notes  and  whisky  ad  libitum  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  break- 
ing of  skulls  with  shillelaghs  on  the  other,  completed  the 
popular  victory.  Moreover,  the  "  patronage"  customarily 
vested  in  a  member  of  Parliament  at  the  time  was  extensive 
in  small  things.  The  post-office  and  the  revenue,  the  army 
and  the  navy,  were,  to  a  great  extent,  the  spoil  of  party. 
The  minister  flung  patronage  to  his  lobby  adherents ;  and 
these  shared  or  dispensed  it  among  their  hustings'  partisans. 
Political  independence,  as  we  understand  it,  was  unknown. 
The  schools  had  not  yet  sent  forth  their  youthful  battalions  ; 
the  newspaper  was  an  expensive  luxury.  The  reading-room 
and  mechanics'  institute  were  not  yet  born.  The  lecture  was 
unknown.     Yet  in  all  respects  it  may  be  said  that  things 


100  -^^^TF  IRELAND. 

were  "  oq  the  turn,"  when  an  event  in  1842  ushered  in  a  new 
era. 

The  Repeal  Association  of  O'Connell  was  worked  in  large 
part  by  his  "  Old  Guard"  of  the  Catholic  Emancipation  cam- 
paign,— men  who  were,  more  or  less,  of  the  old  school.  But 
the  movement  early  attracted  to  it  some  of  the  most  gifted 
and  brilliant  of  the  young  men  who  were  just  then  emerging 
from  college  and  univei'sity  life  into  the  bustle  and  activity 
of  an  exciting  time  in  public  affairs.  Affinity  of  tastes,  col- 
lege 'companionship,  community  of  feeling,  brought  these 
youthful  Repealers  together  as  a  distinct  '''  set"  or  section  in 
the  association.  Their  minds  were  fresh  from  the  study  of 
classic  models  in  civic  virtue,  in  love  of  country,  in  public 
heroism.  They  became  inspired  with  the  great  ambition  of 
giving  a  new  character,  a  purer  tone,  and  a  bolder  direction 
to  the  national  niovement. 

Three  of  these  young  men — Charles  Gavan  Duffy,  Thomas 
Osborne  Davis,  and  John  Blake  Dillon — were  strolling  in  the 
Phcenix  Park  one  fine  summer  evening  in  1842.  They  dis- 
cussed the  pi'ospects  of  the  Repeal  cause  and  the  calibre  of 
the  men  directing  it,  the  newspaper  press,  such  as  it  was, 
and  O'Connell's  relations  with  that  section  of  it  which  sup- 
ported the  association.  They  complained  that  there  was  no 
attempt  at  the  intellectual  development  or  political  education 
of  the  popular  mind,  and  dwelt  upon  the  fact  that  in  a  few 
years  more  the  j)ublic  schools  would  be  sending  forth  some 
tens  of  thousands  of  young  people  able  to  read  and  write. 
They  debated  the  great  question,  "  What  was  to  be  done  ?" 
They  answered  that  question  by  agreeing  that  the  first  thing 
necessary  was  to  start  a  weekly  newspaper  as  the  exponent 
and  policy  of  a  new  school  of  politics.  Duffy  was  already  a 
journalist.  Though  young  in  years,  he  filled  an  honorable 
place  in  public  confidenee  as  editor  of  the  Belfast  Vindi- 
cator.    He  was  the  man  to  whom  they  looked  to  play  the 


^^  YOUNG  IRELAND."  101 

leading  part  in  this  ambitions  scheme.  Seated  under  a  tree 
in  the  Phoenix  Park,  the  three  friends  decided  to  start  the 
Nation  newspaper,  which  issued  its  first  number  on  the  15th 
of  October,  1842. 

The  journal  thus  founded  was  destined  to  play  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  subsequent  political  history  of  Ireland.  It 
was  not  a  newspaper  so  much  as  a  great  popular  educator,  a 
counsellor  and  guide.  Its  office  was  a  sort  of  bureau  of  na- 
tional affairs,  political,  literary,  industrial,  and  artistic.  Its 
editorial  room  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  "youthful  enthu- 
siasts," as  the  old-school  politicians  called  them, — orators, 
poets,  writers,  artists.  In  the  pages  of  the  Nation  fervid 
prose  and  thrilling  verse,  literary  essay  and  historical  ballad, 
were  all  pressed  into  the  service  of  Irish  nationality.  The 
effect  was  beyond  all  anticipation.  The  country  seemed  to 
awaken  to  a  new  life;  "a  soul  had  come  into  Erin.'' 

Emboldened  by  the  success  of  this  first  overt  act,  they 
struck  out  into  other  fields  of  labor,  and  determined  to  supply 
Ireland  with  a  cheap  popular  literature,  at  once  entertaining 
and  educational.  "  Duffy's  Library  of  Ireland,"  a  monthly 
issue  of  shilling  volumes,  was  the  result.  Even  if  they  had 
done  no  more,  this  would  be  no  unworthy  monument  of 
their  zeal  for  the  moral  and  intellectual  as  well  as  the  politi- 
cal education  of  the  people. 

They  were  pre-eminently  the  party  of  religious  tolerance. 
The  leading  idea  in  what  may  be  called  their  home  policy 
was  to  break  down  the  antagonism  between  Catholics  and 
Protestants  in  Ireland.  In  this  they  were  long  before  their 
time.  The  experiment,  however,  was  bravely  tried.  In 
many  a  song  and  many  an  essay  they  preached  the  union  of 
classes  and  creeds. 

"  What  matter  that  at  different  shrines 
We  pray  unto  one  God  ? 
9* 


IQ2  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

"What  matter  Jhat  atdiflejifiut  times 

Our  fathers  won  this  sqcL? — - 
In  fortune  and  in  name  we're  bound 

By  stronger  links  than  steel ; 
And  neither  can  be  safe  or  sound 

But  in  the  other's  weal. 

****** 
"And  oh,  it  were  a  gallant  deed 

To  show  before  mankind 
How  every  race  and  every  creed 

Might  be  by  love  combined, — 
Might  be  combined,  yet  not  forget 

The  fountains  whence  they  rose, 
As  fiU'd  by  many  a  rivulet 

The  stately  Shannon  flows." 

Thus  pleaded  Davis  in  the  Nation.  More  boldly  still  he 
addressed  himself  to  his  fellow-Protestants  of  Ulster, — the 
Orangemeu  of  the  North  : 

"  Busty  the  swords  our  fathers  unsheathed, 
William  and  James  are  turn'd  to  clay ; 
Long  did  we  till  the  wrath  they  bequeathed ; 
Bed  was  the  crop  and  bitter  the  pay. 
Freedom  fled  us  ; 
Knaves  misled  us ; 
•    Under  the  feet  of  the  foemen  we  lay  ; 
But  in  their  spite 
The  Irish  unite, 
Por  Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day." 

All  in  vain.  As  remote  as  the  millennium  seemed  the 
day  wiien  Orange  and  Green  would  cease  to  wave  over  op- 
posing hosts  arrayed  in  deadly  hate  and  fiercest  hostility. 

Meantime,  with  a  vigor  that  quite  astonished  ob-servers, 
the  Young  Irelanders  addressed  themselves  to  the  equally 
formidable  task  of  reforming  certain  of  the  ideas  and  usages 
of  Irish  politics.  They  execrated  plac£--^begging.  deniedjhat 
"  good  appojntmeatg_for  Catholics"  should  be  considered  the 
showering  of  blessings  on  Ireland,  and  denounced  the  prac- 


''YOUNG  IRELAND."  103 

tice  of  "  popular  members''  of  shady  character  presenting 
stained-glass  jwindows  and  altar-gongs  to  the  Catholic  chapels 
whenever  ji  general  election  was  at  hand.  Above  all,  they 
dared  to  say  that  the  traffic  in  tidewaiterships  and  postmas- 
terships  and  treasury-clerkships  was  demoralizing,  and  should 
be  put  down.  It  was  little  less  than  a  revolution  these  men 
attempted  in  the  whole  system  of  Irish  politics.  O'Connell 
himself  they  greatly  revered  :  they  accepted  his  policy,  were 
loyal  to  his  authority,  were  grateful  for  his  services.  But 
they  waged  unconcealed  war  with  the  class  of  men  who,  in  a 
great  degree,  surrounded  him,  and  with  the  low  tone  of  pub- 
lic  moral ity^which  then  seemed  prevalent.  The  regenerated 
Ireland  of  their  dreams  was  not  to  arise  under  such  influences 
as  these.  They  preached  the  need  of  better  men  and  a  bolder 
policy,  and  strongly  impressed  on  the  people  that  if  they 
valued  national  liberty  they  must  cultivate  the  virtues  with- 
out which  such  a  blessing  would  fly  their  grasp. 

"  For  Freedom  comes  from  God's  right  hand, 
And  needs  a  godly  train  : 
'Tis  righteous  men  can  make  our  land 
A  Nation  once  again." 

So  sang  the  bard  of  the  party.     So  spoke  all  its  orators. 

Such  was  Young  Ireland  in  its  early  career.  Of  the  men 
who  founded  or  constituted  that  party  more  than  thirty  years 
ago  few  now  survive.     Nearly  all  have  passed  away ;  and 

"  Their  graves  are  sever'd  far  and  wide 
By  mountain,  stream,  and  sea." 

DufFy — now  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy,  of  Melbourne — 
has  been  Prime  Minister  of  V ictoria,  and  is  perhaps  the 
ablest  and  most  statesmanlike  man  at  present  in  public  life 
at  the  antipodes.  Darcy  McGee,  foully  slain  by  an  assassin's 
bullet  at  Ottawa  in  1868,  had  also  won,  as  a  minister  of  the 


104  ^'^^'  IRELAND. 

Crown  in  the  free  self-governed  Dominion  of  Canada,  a 
notable  recognition  of  his  splendid  abilities.  Meagher,  the 
> silver-tongued  orator  of  Young  Ireland,  after  a  career  full 
of  vicissitudes,  was  United  States  Governor  of  Montana 
Territory  when  he  accidentally  perished  in  the  rapids  of  the 
Missouri.  Davis  died  early,  yet  not  before  he  had  filled 
Ireland  with  admiration  for  his  genius  and  love  for  his  vir- 
tues. Dillon  died  in  1866,  member  of  Parliament  for  Tip- 
perary  County.  Martin  and  Ronayne  are  recent  losses, 
having  fallen  in  harness  as  parliamentary  representatives. 
Mitchel,  irreconcilable  and  defiant  to  the  last,  returned  to 
Ireland  in  1875,  and  died  "  in  the  arms  of  victory"  as 
"member  for  Tipperary."  O'Brien,  the  leader  of  the  party, 
sleeps  in  the  family  mausoleum  at  Rathronan ;  but  on  the 
most  prominent  site  in  the  Irish  metrqjolis  his  countrymen 
have  raised  a  noble  statue  to  perpetuate  his  memory. 
Richard  O'Gorman  enjoys  in  New  York  fame  and  fortune 
honorably  achieved  nTTlic  land  of  his  adoption.  Kevin  Izod 
O'Doherty  is  now  a  prominent  member  of  the  Queensland 
legislature.  Michael  Doheny,  a  man  of  rare  gifts  as  a 
writer  and  speaker,  diccl  sadly  in^New  York.  Richard 
Dalton  Williams,  the  gentle  bard  of  many  an  exquisite  lay, 
reposes  in  a  distant  Louisiana  grave.  Denny  Lane,  poet 
and  politician,  happily  still  thinks  and  feels  for  Ireland  in 
his  pleasant  home  by  the  Lee.  Besides  these  there  might  be 
named  a  goodly  company  of  the  less  political  and  more  lit- 
erary type :  John  O'Hagan,  now  judge  of  a  county  court 
in  Ireland ;  Samuel  Ferguson,  now  Deputy  Keeper  of  the 
Rolls;  Denis*  Florence  MacCarthy,  D.  MacNevin,  Rev. 
Charles  Meehan,  John  Edward  Pigott,  Michael  J.  Barry, 
James  Clarence  Mangan,  and  John  Kells  Ingram,  LL.D., 
now  a  fellow  of  Trinity  College,  whose  famous  lyric,  "  Who 
fears  to  speak  of  Ninety-eight?"  is  the  best-known  of  all  the 
seditious  poetry  of  Young  Ireland. 


''YOUNG  IRELAND."  105 

But  the  roll  were  incomplete  indeed  if  from  it  were  omitted 
three  women  who  gave  to  Irish  national  poetry  of  the  Young 
Ireland  era  its  most  striking  characteristics:  "Eva,"  "Mary," 
and  "  Speranza." 

Eva  Mary  Kelly  was  the  daughter  of  a  County  Galway 
gentleman,  and  could  have  been  little  more  than  a  girl  when 
the  contributions  bearing  her  pseudonym  began  to  attract 
attention.  A  good  idea  of  the  Young  Ireland  poetry — at 
all  events  of  the  Young  Ireland  poetesses — may  be  gathered 
from  one  of  her  early  contributions, — "  The  People's  Chief:" 

"  The  storms  of  enfranchised  passions  rise  as  the  voice  of   the  eagle 

screaming, 
And  we  scatter  now  to  the  earth's  four  winds  the  memory  of  our 

dreaming  ! 
The  clouds  but  veil  the  lightning's  bolt, — Sibylline  murmurs  ring 
In  hollow  tones  from  out  the  depths:  the  People  seek  their  King  I 

"  Come  forth,  come  forth,  Anointed  One  !  nor  blazon  nor  honors  bear- 
ing; 
No  'ancient  line'  be  thy  seal  or  sign,  the  crown  of  Humanity  wear- 
ing; 
Spring  out,  as  lucent  fountains  spring,  exulting  from  the  ground, — 
Arise  as  Adam  rose  from  God,  with  strength  and  knowledge  crown'd! 

"  The  leader  of  the  world's  wide  host  guiding  our  aspirations,         ^flyU^^  s 
"Wear  thou  the  seamless  garb  of  Truth  sitting  among  the  nations  i         ^^) 

Thy  foot  is  on  the  empty  forms  around  in  shivers  cast :  fytA^  I 

"We  crush  ye  with  the  scorn  of  scorn,  exuviae  of  the  past !  .       ,--^2^^  ' 

"  Come  forth,  come  forth,  0  Man  of  men  I  to  the  cry  of  the  gathering 

nations; 
"We  watch  on  tower,  we  watch  on  the  hill,  pouring  our  invocations ; 
Our  souls  are  sick  of  sounds  and  shades  that  mock  our  shame  and 

grief, 
"We  hurl  the  Dagons  from  their  seats,  and  call  the  lawful  Chief! 

"  Come  forth,  come  forth,  0  Man  of  men  1    to  the  frenzy  of  our  im- 
ploring, 
The  wing'd  despair  that  no  man  can  bear,  up  to  the  heavens  soaring; 


106  ^EW  IRELAND. 

Come !  Faith  and  Hope,  and  Love  and  Trust,  upon  their  centre  rock, 
The  wailing  millions  summon  thee,  amid  the  earthquake-shock  ! 

"We've  kept  the  weary  watch  of  years,  with  a  wild  and  heart-wrung 

yearning, 
But  the  star  of  the  Advent  we  sought  in  vain,  calmly  and   purely 

burning ; 
False  meteors  flash 'd  across  the  sky,  and  falsely  led  us  on  : 
The  parting  of  the  strife  is  come, — the  spell  is  o'er  and  gone ! 

"  The  future's  closed  gates  are  now  on  their  ponderous  hinges  jarring, 
And  there  comes  a  sound  as  of  winds  and  waves  each  with  the  other 

warring. 
And  forward  bonds  the  listening  world,  as  to  their  eager  ken 
From  out  that  dark  and  mystic  land  appears  the  Man  of  men  !" 

Kevin  O'Doherty  (already  mentioned)  was  at  this  time  a 
young  medical  student  in  Dublin.  From  admiring  "  Eva's" 
poetry,  he  took  to  admiring — that  is,  loving — herself.  The 
outbreak  of  1848,  however,  brought  a  rude  interruption  to 
Kevin's  suit.  He  was  waiting  unmistakably  seditious  prose 
while  "  Eva"  was  assailing  the  constituted  authorities  in  rebel 
verse.  Kevin  was  arrested  and  brought  to  trial.  Twice  the 
jur)'  disagreed.  The  day  before  his  third  arraignment  he  was 
offered  a  virtual  pardon — a  merely  nominal  sentence — if  he 
would  plead  guilty.  He  sent  for  Eva,  and  told  her  of  the 
proposition.  *'  It  may  seem  as  if  I  did  not  feel  the  certainty 
of  losing  you,  perhaps  forever,"  said  he ;  "  but  I  don't  like 
this  idea  of  pleading  guilty.  Say,  what  shall  I  do?"  "Do?" 
answered  the  poetess :  "  why,  be  a  man,  and  face  the  worst. 
I'll  wait  for  you,  however  long  the  sentence  may  be."  Next 
day  fortune  deserted  Kevin.  The  jury  found  him  guilty. 
The  judge  assigned  him  ten^  years'  transportation.  "  Eva" 
was  allowed  to  see  him  once  mofe  iH^  the  cell  to  say  adieu. 
She  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Be  you  faithful.  Til  unit." 
And  she  did.  Years  fl.ed_by,  and  the  young  exile  was  at 
length  allowed  once  more  to  tread  Irish  soil.  Two  days  after 
he  landed  at  Kingstown  "  Eva"  was  his  bride. 


''YOUNG  IRELAND."  107 

Less  happy  was  tlie  romance  of  "  Mary's"  fate.  She  was 
a  Muuster  lady,  Miss  Ellen  Downing  by  name,  and,  like 
"  Eva,"  formed  an  attachment  for  one  of  the  Young  Ireland 
writers.  In  "  Forty-eight"  he  became  a  fugitive.  Alas,  in 
foreign  climes_Jie  learned  to  forget  home  vows.  "  Mary" 
sank  under  the  blow.  She  put  by  the  lyre,  and  in  utter  se- 
clusion from  the  world  lingered  for  a  while;  but  ere  long 
the  spring  flowers  bloomed  on  her  grave. 

"  Speranza" — then  Miss  Elgee,  now  Lady^Wilde — was  in- 
comparably the  most  brilliant  of  the  galaxy.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Elgee,  Protestant  rector  of  a  parish 
in  the  county  Wexford,  and  sister  of  the  Hon.  Judge  Elgee, 
of  New  Orleans.  Young,  beautiful,  highly  educated,  en- 
dowed with  rarest  gifts  of  intellect,  her  personal  attrac- 
tions, her  cultivated  mind,  her  originality  and  force  of  char- 
acter, made  her  the  centre  figure  in  Dublin  society  thirty 
years  ago.  In  1845  she  married  Sir  William  Robert  Wilde, 
by  whose  death  recently  Ireland  has  lost  one  of  its  most  dis- 
tinguished archaeologists.  Down  to  almost  a  recent  period 
Lady  Wilde  continued  her  contributions  to  Irish  national 
literature,  ever  and  anon  striking  a  chord  in  the  old  strain, 
always  singing  of  hope  and  courage  and  truth.  One  of  the 
last  contributions  1  received  from  her  hand  for  publication  in 
the  Nation  affords  a  good  illustration  of  the  spirit  which  ani- 
mated all  "  Speranza's"  poems.  Death  had  been  busy  jusi 
then  striking  down  some  of  the  most  trusttid  of  the  Irish 
national  leaders,  and  many  circumstances  led  me  to  express 
one  day  in  writing  to  her  my  utter  disheartenment  as  to  the 
outlook  in  Irish  politics.  A  post  or  two  subsequently  brought 
me  from  Lady  Wilde  this  address  to  her  countrymen : 

"  Has  the  line  of  the  patriots  ended, 
The  race  of  the  heroes  fail'd, 
That  the  bow  of  the  mighty,  unbended, 
Palls  slack  from  the  hands  of  the  quail'd  ? 


108  ^EW  IRELAND. 

Or  do  graves  lie  too  thick  in  the  grass 
For  the  chariot  of  Progress  to  pass  ? 

"  Did  the  men  of  the  past  ever  falter, — 
The  stainless  in  name  and  fame? 
They  flung  life's  best  gifts  on  the  altar 

To  kindle  the  sacrifice-flame, 
Till  it  rose  like  a  pillar  of  light 
Leading  up  from  Egyptian  night. 

"  O  hearts  all  aflame  with  the  daring 
Of  youth  leaping  forth  into  life  ! 
Have  ye  courage  to  lift  up,  unfearing, 
The  banner  fallen  low  in  the  strife. 
Prom  hands  fiiint  through  life's  deepest  loss 
And  bleeding  from  nails  of  the  cross? 

"  Can  ye  work  on  as  they  work'd, — unaided, 
When  all  but  honor  seem'd  lost, — 
And  give  to  your  country,  as  they  did, 

All,  without  counting  the  cost? 
For  the  children  have  risen  since  then 
Up  to  the  height  of  men. 

"  Now  swear  by  those  pale  martyr-faces 
All  worn  by  the  furrows  of  tears, 
By  the  lost  youth  no  morrow  replaces, 

By  all  their  long  wasted  years. 
By  the  fires  trod  out  on  each  hearth, 
AVhen  the  Exiles  were  driven  forth ; 

"  By  the  young  lives  so  vainly  given, 
By  the  raven  hair  blanch 'd  to  gray, 
By  the  strong  spirits  crush'd  and  riven. 

By  the  noble  aims  faded  away. 
By  their  brows,  as  the  brows  of  a  king, 
Crown'd  by  the  circlet  of  suffering — 

"  To  strive  as  they  strove,  yet  retrieving 
The  Cause  from  all  shadow  of  blame. 
In  the  Congress  of  Peoples  achieving 

A  place  for  our  nation  and  name ; 
Not  by  war  between  brothers  in  blood. 
But  by  glory  made  perfect  through  good. 


"FOf/.VG   IRELAND."  109 

"  We  are  blind,  not  discerning  the  promise, 
'Tis  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  that  kills  ; 
Give  us  Light,  and  the  fetters  fall  from  us, 
Tor  the  strong  soul  is  free  when  it  wills : 
Not  our  wrongs  but  our  sins  make  the  cloud 
That  darkens  the  land  like  a  shroud. 

"  "With  this  sword  like  an  archangel's  gleaming, 

Go  war  against  Evil  and  Sin, 
'Gainst  the  falsehood  and  meanness  and  seeming 

That  stifle  the  true  life  within. 
Your  bonds  are  the  bonds  of  the  soul. 
Strike  them  otF,  and  you  spring  to  the  goal  I 

.  "  O  men  who  have  pass'd  through  the  furnace, 
Assay'd  like  the  gold,  and  as  pure  ! 
By  your  strength  can  the  weakest  gain  firmness. 

The  strongest  may  learn  to  endure, 
"When  once  they  have  chosen  their  part, 
Though  the  sword  may  drive  home  to  each  heart. 

"  O  martyrs  1  The  scorners  may  trample 
On  broken  hearts  strew'd  in  their  path  I 
But  the  young  race,  all  flush 'd  by  example. 

Will  awake  to  the  duties  it  hath. 
And  rekindle  your  own  torch  of  Truth 
With  the  passionate  splendors  of  youth!" 

It  was  not  as  a  poet  Lady  Wilde  first  became  a  contributor 
to  the  Nation.  Some  exceedingly  able  letters  having  ap- 
peared in  that  journal  signed  "  John  Fanshawe  Ellis/'  the 
editor,  Mr.  Duffy,  expressed,  in  the  "  Notices  to  Correspond- 
ents," a  desire  to  meet  "  Mr.  Ellis."  By  return  of  post  he 
was  informed  that  he  could  do  so  by  calling  on  a  certain 
evening  at  the  house  of  Dr.  W.  E,.  Wilde.  Mr.  Duffy  went, 
and  was  received  by  the  doctor,  who,  having  chatted  with 
him  for  a  while,  left  the  room  and  shortly  returned  leading 
by  the  hand  "  Mr.  John  Fanshawe  Ellis"  in  the  person  of 
his  wife,  formerly  Miss  Jane  Frances  Elgee,  "  Speranza"  of 

10 


110  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

future  fame.  In  truth,  Laxiy^J^^ilde  could  rouse  the  soul  by 
thrilling  prose  as  well  as  by  impassioned  song.  In  1848  she 
was  the  Madame  RQlaud__iif__theIrisliGirpnde.  When  the 
struggle  was  over,  and  Gavan_  Duffy  was  on  trial  for  high 
treason,  among  the  articles  read  against  him  was  one  from 
the  suppressed  number  of  the  Nation,  entitled  "  Jacta  Alea 
Est."  It  was  without  example  as  a  revolutionary  appeal. 
Exquisitely  beautiful  as  a  piece  of  MTiting,  it  glowed  with 
fiery  incentiv^e.  It  was  in  fact  a  prose  poem,  a  wild  war- 
song,  in  which  Ireland  was  called  upon  that  day  in  the  face 
of  earth  and  heaven  to  invoke  the  ultima  ratio  of  oppressed 
nations.  The  Attorney-General  read  the  article  amidst 
breathless  silence.  At  its  close  there  was  a  murmur  of 
emotion  in  the  densely-crowded  court,  when  suddenly  a  cry 
from  the  ladies'  gallery  startled  every  one.  "  I  am  the 
culprit,  if  crime  it  be,"  was  spoken  in  a  M'oman's  voice.  It 
was  the  voice  of  queenly  "  Speranza."  The  article  was  from 
her  pen. 

The  recognized  leader,  at  all  events  the  political  chief,  of 
the  Young  Ireland  party  was  William  Smith  O'Brien.  He 
was  a  Protestant  gentleman  of  hio;h  character  and  influential 
position  in  Clare;  his  brother.  Lord  Inchiquin  (at  that  time 
Sir  Lucius  O'Brien),  being  nearest  male  relative  to  the  Mar- 
quis-of  Thomond.  The  family  is  undoubtedly  of  ancient 
and  illustrious  lineage,  tracing  in  authenticated  line  from 
Kino;  Brian  I.,  monarch  of  Ireland,  whose  overthrow  of  the 
Danish  power  at  Clontarf  was  an  event  of  European  interest 
and  importance  in  the  eleventh  century.  In  the  reigns  of 
Elizabeth  and  James  the  First  most^of  the  Irish  chieftains 
who  from  time  to  time  submitted  or  "  attorned"  to  the  Eng- 
lish power  undertook  to  accept  English  titles,  and  to_give_iip 
their  children  (their  next  heirs,  at  jjlevents)  to  be  educated 


as  Government  fimixds."     Tl't^  yoiinghostages,  for  such  in 
truth  they  were,  in  every  case  were  brouglit  ~up  Protestants, 


\ 


''YOUNG  IRELAND."  HI 

SO  that  few  of  the   existing  representatives_of^  the  ancient 
Milesian  chieftainries  now  profess  the  Catholic  faith. 

Early  in  the"  seventeenth  century  an  English  coronet  sat  on 
the  brows  of  the  Thonioncl  chieftain.  In  the  civil  war  of 
1641  Morrough  O'Brien,  Earl  of  Thomond.  espoused  Crom- 
well's side,  and  was  the  terror  of  the  Munster  royalists.  It 
was  he  who  cannonaded  and  set  fire  to  the  cathedraLofXkghel, 
— magnificent  even  now  in  its  ruins. 

William  Smith  O'Brien  was  born  in  1803,  and  was  edu- 
cated at  Harrow  and  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  He  early 
entered  Parliament  for  one  of  what  may  be  called  the  family 
seats  as  a  stanch  Conservative.  Though  strong  Tories,  and 
actively  opposing  .Q!CminelJ-^ in  his  Emancipation  agitation, 
the  Thomond  O'Briens-were  intensely  Irish,  and  were  ex- 
tremely popular  in  Clare  and  Limerick.  From  1826  to 
1843  Smith  O'Brien  pursued  in  Parliament  the  career  of  an 
Irish  "  country-gentleman"  Conservative,  of  rather  liberal  or 
popular  inclinations,  devoting  himself  actively  to  what  would 
be  called  practical  legislation  affecting  the  material  interests 
of  Ireland.  In  1843_he  startled  tl^  country  by  publicly 
giving  in  his  adhesion  to  the  Repeal  movement,  stating  that 
fourteen  years'  patient  trial  of  the  London  Parliament  had 
brought  him  conscientiously  to  this  determination.  By  this 
step  he  not  alone  severed  himself  forever  in  public  affairs 
from  his  lifetime  associates  and  friends,  but  suffered  estrange- 
ment in  his  own  family,  which  he  felt  most  acutely.  He  was, 
however,  a  man  of  invincible  purpose,  absolutely  destitute  of 
fear  or  vacillation  in  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  path  of 
duty.  He  was  the  very  soul  of  honor  and  truth.  I  doubt 
that  Ireland  ever  knew  a  higher  type  of  public  virtue  and 
personal  integrity  than  William  Smith  O'Brien.  Yet  he 
lacked  many  essential  qualifications  of  a  great  political  leader. 
It  was  not  because  of  his  abilities,  but  of  his  virtues  and  of 
his  commanding  social  position,  that  he  rose  to  be  the  chief 


112  NEW  IRELAND. 

of  au  Irish  party.  He  was  proud,  almost  haup;htv.  dignified 
and  reserved  in  manner.  His  conservatism  never  wholly 
abandoned  him.  Early  associations  left  an  indelible  imprint 
on  his  character,  opinions,  and  principles.  He  had  a  horror 
of  revolutionary  doctrines.  No  man  in  all  the  land  seemed 
less  likely  to  figure  subsequently  in  history  as  a  rebel  chief. 

His  accession  to  the  Repeal  movement  was  the  great  event 
of  the  time.  He  was  hailed  as  "  the  second  man  in  Ireland," 
O'Connell  being  the  first.  I  doubt  that  the  old  "  Catholic 
Emancipation  party,"  O'Connell's  immediate  following,  ever 
took  cordially  to  him ;  but  he  soon  became  the  head  of  the 
literary  and  educational  party  in  the  Repeal  ranks,  whose 
independence  of  thought  and  bpldness  of  speech  wmia  daily 
alarming  the  Libemtiir.  When  at  length  matters  came  to  a 
crisis  in  the  association,  and  the  secession  described  in  a  pre- 
vious chapter  took  place,  O'Brien,  though  greatly  regretting 
the  incident,  withdrew  with  "Young  Ireland,"  and  thenceforth 
took  his  place  as  the  recognized  and  responsible  leader  of  the 
party. 

I  first  met  William  Smith  O'Brien  in  July,  1848,  three 
weeks  before  the  catastrophe  which  consigned  him  to  a 
traitor's  doom.  He  was  engaged  in  a  tour  of  the  south- 
western and  southern  counties,  evidently  anxious  to  satisfy 
himself  as  to  the  real  state  of  ])ublic  feeling,  and,  I  have  no 
doubt,  the  physical  resources  of  the  national  party.  He  was 
to  arrive  at  Glengariffe  on  his  way,  vid  Bantry,  to  a  great 
parade  or  review  of  the  Confederate  clubs  in  Cork.  The  men 
of  our  coasts  and  mountains  decided  to  give  him  a  royal  re- 
ception and  in  a  style  characteristic  of  an  aquatic  community. 
Not  only  the  fishing-fleet  of  Bantry,  but  the  boats  of  every 
seaside  hamlet  on  creek  and  inlet  for  miles  ai'ound,  were  to 
accomj^any  him  across  the  bay  from  Glengariffe  to  Bantry,  a 
little  fore-and-aft-schooner  yacht  of  my  father's  having  the 
envied  honor  of  conveying  the  distinguished  visitor.     With 


''YOUNG  IRELAND.''  113 

flowing  sheet  we  crossed  the  opeu  bay,  and  reached  the  east- 
ward point  of  Whiddy  Island,  that  shields  from  ocean  billow 
and  gale  the  haven  of  Bantry.  The  instant  we  rounded  the 
island  there  met  our  view  a  scene  I  shall  never  forget.  A 
flotilla  of  some  hundreds  of  boats  here  awaited  us.  Every 
crew  had  gone  ashore  and  pulled  green  boughs  from  the  trees 
and  fastened  them  upright  on  the  gunwales,  so  that  each  boat 
was  like  a  floating  bower.  When  the  "Independence," 
quickly  turning  the  point,  shot  into  sight,  there  burst 
from  the  fleet  a  deafening  shout,  the  bands  struck  up,  the 
oarsmen  gave  way  with  a  will,  we  pulled  our  fore-stay -sail 
aback  so  as  to  slow  for  them,  and  the  whole  procession 
crossed  the  harbor's  wide  expanse  like  Birnara  Wood  march- 
ing on  Dunsinane. 

When  next  I  met  O'Brien — it  was  in  1857 — a  sad  chapter 
of  Irish  history  had  been  added  to  the  national  annals. 
Thenceforth,  to  the  hour  of  his  death,  we  were  closely  asso- 
ciated as  political  and  personal  friends ;  but  in  the  Young 
Ireland  period,  my  only  personal  intercourse  with,  or  experi- 
ence of,  him  was  that  of  the  memorable  scene  I  have  just 
described.* 

One  of  the  notable  grounds  of  difference  between  the  two 
sections  of  Repealers  in  O'Connell's  association  was  the  com- 
plaint of  the  Young  Irelanders  that  the  National  movement 
was  being  conducted  with  too  much  of  a  religious  bias ;  that 
is  to  say,  in  a  way  which  seemed  to  assume  that  every  patri- 
otic Irishman    must  necessarily   be  a  Catholic.     O'Connell 

*  How  warmly  he  remembered  it,  even  amidst  the  gloom  of  a  convic- 
tion for  high  treason,  was  shown  by  his  forwarding  to  me  from  his  cell 
in  Richmond  jail  the  music  of  a  favorite  song,  with  this  inscription : 

"  Presented  to  Alexander  M.  Sullivan  by  William  S.  O'Brien,  in 
remembrance  of  his  excursion  by  water  from  Glengaritfe  to  Bantry,  on 
board  the  yacht  "Independence,"  in  July,  1848;  when  this  song  was 
sung  by  a  young  lady. 

"  Richmond  Pbison,  BlarcU,  1849."  , 

H  10* 


114  NEW  IRELAND. 

made  the  platform  of  the  association  ring  with  denunciations 
of  every  measure,  prospect,  or  principle  inimical  to  Catholic 
feeling.  The  Catholic  Young  Irelanders  said  that  in  a 
Catholic  asj^ociation  this  would  be  right  and  proper;  but 
they  asserted  that  in  a  public  organization,  explicitly  restricted 
to  a  purely  political  purpose,  and  in  which  Protestants  and 
Catholics  were  alike  engaged,  it  was  out  of  place,  and  quite 
wrong.  The  contention  over  this  issue  grew  very  bitter. 
Out  of  it  arose  the  imputation  of  "  free-thinking"  doctrines 
which  some  persons  long  sought  to  fasten  on  the  Young 
Ireland  party. 

Hard  things  were  said  on  both  sides.  The  Old  Irelanders 
anathematized  the  young  men  as  infidels ;  the  Young  Ire- 
landers denounced  the  old  as  bigots.  The  point  involved  was 
by  no  means  trivial ;  it  was  of  the  first  magnitude ;  it  was  vital 
for  the  future  of  Ireland  :  namely,  whether  combined  effort 
between  Protestant  and  Catholic  Irishmen  in  purely  politi- 
cal affairs  was  to  be  rendered  impracticable.  Although  some 
of  the  "  Young"  ]iarty  pushed  their  arguments  in  language 
that  partook  far  too  much  of  latitudinarianism,  it  is  now 
recognized  and  confessed  that  on  this  occasion  they  defended 
a  position  the  loss  or  surrender  of  which  would  have  been 
simply  disastrous.  The  utmost  they  were  able  to  do  at  the 
time  was  to  make  a  stout  fight.  Not  until  many  years  after- 
wards was  the  principle  tliey  thus  contended  for  ])roclaimed 
and  adopted  as  unquestioned  and  unquestionable  in  Irish 
affairs.  Had  they  not  fought  for  it  then,  a  wall  of  brass 
might  now  be  dividing  into  hostile  camps  Protestant  and 
Catholic  Irishmen.  But  tiicir  whole  career  was  one  of 
struggle,  unrequited  by  a  single  ray  of  immediate  victory. 
Their  break  with  O'Connell  drew  down  on  them  long-en- 
during unpopularity.  Their  reprehensions  of  parliamentary 
corruption  caused  them  to  be  derided  as  ntoj)ian  purists. 
Their  fight  for  religious  tolerance  exposed-  them  to  charges 


''YOUNG  IRELAND."  115 

of  infidelity.  Their  educational  propaganda  was  scoffed  at 
as  boyish  bubble-blowing.  On  nearly  every  point  of  their 
programme  they  seemed  to  fail.  That  is  to  say,  they  were 
wrecked  as  a  party  before  leaf  or  blossom  appeared  to  indi- 
cate that  the  seed  they  had  planted  with  so  much  toil  had  not 
perished  forever.  But  we  of  to-day  reap  the  fruits  of  their 
labors.     They  were  the  precursors  of  a  better  time. 


CHAPTER    YIII. 


FORTY-EIGHT. 


Eighteen  hundred  and  forty-eight  has  been  called,  by 
Lord  Normanby  I  believe,  the  "  Year  of  Revolutions."  It 
is  certain  that  history  supplies  us  with  no  similar  spectacle 
of  general  and  almost  simultaneous  outbreak  in  the  capitals 
of  Europe.  The  ideal  "principles"  of  1789  found  at  tiie 
time  admirers  and  sympathizers  in  many  lands ;  but  so  far 
from  the  overthrow  of  the  French  monarchy  immediately 
calling  forth  like  events  elsewhere,  Christendom  stood  aghast 
at  the  dread  spectacle  in  Paris  of  men  who 

"At  Death's  reeking  altar  like  furies  caressing 
The  Young  Hope  of  Freedom,  baptized  it  in  blood." 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  from  the  Place  de  la 
Bastille  were  scattered  eventually  over  Europe  ideas  and  doc- 
trines which,  ever  since,  have  been  in  part  the  watchwords  of 
human  liberty  and  in  part  the  shibboleths  of  anarchy  and 
crime. 

The  French  revolution  of  February,  1848,  was  no  such 
"  bolt  from  the  blue"  as  some  have  considered  it.  There 
were  storm-flashes  all  around,  gloom  on  every  hand,  and  dis- 
tant peals  by  the  Adriatic.  In  November,  1847,  Austria 
commenced  to  occupy  the  Italian  States,  taking  possession 
of  Parma,  Modena,  and  Reggio.  Early  in  January,  1848, 
there  was  an  outbreak  at  Leghorn.  On  the  12th  Palermo 
revolted  against  King  Ferdinand,  and  a  "  constitution"  was 
conceded.  On  the  13th  the  Emperor  of  Austria  announced 
that  he  would  make  "  no  further  concessions,"  and  two  days 
116 


''FOR  TY- EIGHT. "  117 

later  Radetzky  issued  an  order  of  the  day  commanding  his 
troops  to  prepare  for  an  immediate  struggle.  On  the  29th 
the  Constitution  of  1812  was  proclaimed  in  Naples,  and  on 
the  30th  the  Duke  of  Modena  fled  his  capital.  On  the  8th 
of  February  the  King  of  Sardinia  followed  the  example  set 
in  Naples,  and  granted  a  "constitution."  On  the  11th  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  did  the  same.  On  the  22d  martial 
law  was  proclaimed  in  Lombardy ;  and  on  the  same  day 
Messina  was  bombarded  by  the  Neapolitan  troops. 

These  events,  it  will  he  seen,  bring  us  up  to  the  very  eve  of 
the  day  on  which  Louis  Philippe  was  swept  from  the  French 
throne;  yet  it  was  in  the  midst  of  such  ominous  signs  that 
the  "  citizen  king"  and  his  infatuated  ministers  were  rushing 
blindly  on  their  fate.  On  the  26th  of  December,  1847,  the 
first  of  the  "  reform  banquets"  was  held  at  Rouen,  eighteen 
hundred  persons  attending.  At  this  as  at  numerous  similar 
demonstrations  the  toast  of  the  king's  health  was  omitted. 
On  the  12th  of  February  M.  Guizot  declared  in  the  French 
Chamber  against  reform  or  concession.  On  the  21st  the 
Paris  reform  banquet  was  proclaimed.  On  the  22d  the  im- 
peachment of  ^I.  Guizot  was  proposed  in  the  Chamber,  but 
the  motion  was  triumpliantly  defeated, — that  "  astute  and  far- 
seeing  minister,"  as  he  was  universally  considered,  laughing 
outright  at  the  absurd  and  impotent  proceeding.  Within 
forty-eight  hours  he  and  his  royal  master  were  fugitives,  and 
the  monarchy  of  July  was  no  more ! 

Scarcely  had  the  astounding  news  from  Paris  burst  upon 
us,  when  all  around  the  European  horizon,  north,  south,  east, 
and  west,  the  flames  of  revolution  leaped  to  the  sky.  The 
crash  of  falling  thrones,  the  roar  of  cannon,  the  shouts  of 
popular  victory,  filled  the  air.  A  fierce  contagion  seemed  to 
spread  all  over  the  Continent.  The  Holy  Alliance  was  in  the 
dust,  and  a  thousand  voices  from  Milan  to  Berlin  proclaimed 
that  the  deliverance  of  subject  peoples  was  at  hand. 


llg  NEW  IRELAND. 

Ireland  could  not  escape  the  fever  of  the  hour.  It  found 
her  in  circumstances  tlmt  seemed  to  leave  her  little  choice  but 
to  yield  to  its  influence. 

Eighteen  months  previously  the  severance  between  "  Old" 
and  "  Young"  Ireland  had  occurred.  There  were  now  two 
Repeal  organizations :  one,  the  original  association  founded 
by  O'Connell,  now  feebly  conducted  by  his  son ;  the  other, 
the  "  Irish  Confederation"  started  by  the  seceding  Young 
Irelanders,  or  "  Confederates,"  as  they  came  to  be  designated 
at  this  period.  The  secession,  it  will  be  remembered,  although 
it  had  more  real  causes,  was  ostensibly  provoked  or  produced 
by  O'Connell's  attempt  to  exact  from  all  Repealei-s  a  decla- 
ration reprehending  physical  force.  Although  the  Young 
Irelanders  had  on  that  occasion  refused  to  sign  a  declaration 
which,  as  they  contended,  logically  struck  at  some  of  the  best 
and  bravest  men  in  the  world's  history,  they  really  were  at  one 
with  O'Connell  as  to  reliance  on  moral  and  political  influ- 
ences alone  for  the  achievement  of  Irish  aims.  No  doubt  they 
believed  in  the  moral  influence  of  physical  resources  and  in- 
culcated this  doctrine  with  an  earnestness  that  could  not  fail 
to  alarm  the  old  tribune.  Scarcely,  however,  had  the  seceders 
— the  party  of  the  Left,  so  to  speak,  in  the  Repeal  Associa- 
tion— attempted  to  carry  on  an  agitation  independently  as 
the  Irish  Confederation,  than  it  became  evident  there  was 
an  "  Extreme  Left"  as  well  as  a  "  Left  Centre."  Amidst 
the  maddening  scenes  of  Forty-six  and  Forty-seven  a  real 
"  physical  force  party"  began  to  be  heard  of,  chiefly  in  Wild 
declarations  that  it  were  better  the  people  should  perish 
arms  in  hand  than  rot  away  in  thousands  under  a  famine 
regime.  No  one  seriously  regarded  these  passionate  exclama- 
tions at  the  time.  Towards  the  close  of  1847,  however,  conflict 
on  the  subject  became  inevitable.  Mr.  John  Mitchel,  one  of 
the  editors  of  the  Nation  newspaj^er,  declared  the  time  had 
come  for  calling  upon   the  Irish  people  to  face  an  armed 


"FORTY-EIGHT."  119 

struggle.  Such  a  course  was  entirely  opposed  to  the  princi- 
ples and  policy  of  the  journal  to  which  he  was  attached,  and 
was  utterly  condemned  by  Gavan  Duify  and  Darcy  McGee, 
Mitchel's  editorial  colleagues.  He  retired  from  the  Nation, 
and  the  controversy  was  carried  into  the  council- room  of  the 
Confederation.  In  the  light  of  events  that  soon  after  became 
public  history  the  statement  must  seem  strange,  yet  true  it 
is,  that  the  most  able  and  vehement  opponents  of  Mitchel's 
physical  force  propositions  were  Smith  O'Brien,  John  B. 
Dillon,  Gavan  Duffy,  T.  F.  Meagher,  Richard  O'Gorman, 
Michael  Doheny,  Darcy  McGee, — the  very  men  who,  a  few 
months  later,  were  prisoners  in  dungeon  bound,  or  fugitives 
on  the  hill-side,  for  participation  in  an  Irish  insurrection ! 

John  Mitchel — the  first  man  who,  since  Robert  Emmet 
perished  on  the  scaffold  in  1803,  preached  an  Irish  insurrec- 
tion and  the  total  severance  of  Ireland  from  the  British 
Crown — was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  John  Mitchel,  Unitarian 
minister  of  Dungiven,  county  Derry.  He  was  born  in  1815, 
and  was  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  Like  many 
another  Trinity  student,  he  early  became  a  contributor  to 
the  Nation  newspaper;  and  in  1845,  on  the  death  of 
Thomas  Davis,  he  accepted  an  editorial  position  on  that 
journal,  in  conjunction  with  Charles  Gavan  Duffy  and 
Thomas  Darcy  McGee.  The  stern  Unitarian  Ulsterman 
soon  developed  a  decided  bent  in  favor  of  what  half  a  cen- 
tury before  would  have  been  called  "  French  principles." 
He  was  republican  and  revolutionary.  At  all  events,  during 
the  scenes  of  the  famine-period  he  quite  drew  away  from  the 
policy  advocated  by  his  colleagues,  and  eventually  called 
upon  the  Irish  Confederation  to  declare  for  a  war  of  inde- 
pendence. He  it  M'as  who  revived  the  "  Separatist"  or  rev- 
olutionary party  in  Irish  politics.  From  1803  up  to  1845 
no  such  party  had  any  recognized  or  visible  existence.  There 
was,  beyond  question,  disaffection  in  the  country,  a  constantly- 


120  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

maintained  protest  against,  or  passive  resistance  to,  the  exist- 
ing state  of  things ;  but  no  one  dreamed  of  a  political  aim 
beyond  Ilej>eal  of  the  Union  as  a  constitutional  object  to  be 
attained  by  constitutional  means.  The  era  of  revolt  and 
rebellion  seemed  gone  forever.  John  Mitchel,  however, 
thrust  utterly  aside  the  doctrines  of  loyalty  and  legality. 
He  declared  that  constitutionalism  ^yas  demoralizing  the 
country.  By  "  blood  and  iron"  alone  could  Ireland  be 
saved. 

These  violent  doctrines  were  abhorrent  to  Smith  O'Brien, 
and  indeed  to  nearly  every  one  of  the  Confederation  leaders. 
O'Brien  declared  that  either  he  or  ^Ntitchel  must  quit  the 
organization.  The  question  was  publicly  debated  for  two 
days  at  full  meetings,  and  on  the  5th  of  February,  1848, 
the  "  war"  party  were  utterly  outvoted,  and  retired  from 
the  Confederation.  Seven  days  afterwards  John  Mitchel,  as 
if  rendered  desperate  by  this  reprehension  of  his  doctrines, 
started  a  weekly  newspaper  called  the  United  Irishman  to 
openly  preach  his  policy  of  insurrection. 

He  was  regarded  as  a  madman.  Young  Irelanders  and 
Old  Irelanders  alike  laughed  in  derision  or  shouted  in  anger 
at  this  proceeding.  But  events  were  now  near  which,  all 
unforeseen  as  they  were  by  Mitchel  and  by  his  opponents, 
were  destined  to  put  the  desperate  game  completely  into  his 
hands. 

Tlie  third  number  of  the  new  journal  had  barely  appeared 
when  news  of  the  French  revolution  burst  on  an  astonished 
world.  It  set  Ireland  in  a  blaze.  Each  day  added  to  the 
excitement.  Every  post  brought  tidings  of  some  popular 
rising,  invariably  crowned  with  victory.  Every  bulletin, 
whether  from  Paris,  Berlin,  or  Vienna,  told  the  same  story, 
preached,  as  it  were,  the  same  lesson, — barricades  in  the 
streets,  overthrow  of  the  Government,  triumph  of  the  people. 
It   may  be   doubted    if   the    United   Irishman   would    have 


' '  FOR  TV-EIGHT. "  121 

lived  through  a  third  month  but  for  this  astounding  turn  of 
affairs.  Now  its  every  utterance  was  rapturously  hailed  by 
a  wildly-excited  multitude.  What  need  to  trace  what  may 
be  easily  understood  ? — Ireland  was  irresistibly  swept  into 
the  vortex  of  revolution.  The  popular  leaders,  who  a  month 
previously  had  publicly  defeated  Mitchel's  pleadings  for  war, 
now  caught  the  prevalent  passion.  Struck  by  the  events 
they  beheld  and  the  examples  set  on  every  side,  they  verily 
believed  that  Ireland  had  but  to  "  go  and  do  likewise,"  and 
the  boon  of  national  liberty  would  be  conceded  by  England, 
probably  without  a  blow. 

Confederate  "  clubs"  now  sprang  up  all  over  the  country, 
and  arming  and  drilling  were  openly  carried  on.  Mitchel's 
journal  week  by  week  labored  with  fierce  energy  to  hurry 
the  conflict.  The  editor  addressed  letters  through  its  pages 
to  Lord  Clarendon,  the  Irish  Viceroy,  styling  him  "  Her 
Majesty's  Executioner  General  and  General  Butcher  of  Ire- 
land." He  published  instructions  as  to  street- warfare ;  noted 
the  "  Berlin  system,"  and  the  "  Milanese  system,"  and  the 
"  Viennese  system ;"  highly  praised  molten  lead,  crockery- 
ware,  broken  bottles,  and  even  cold  vitriol,  as  good  things 
for  citizens,  male  or  female,  to  fling  from  windows  and 
house-tops  on  hostile  troops  operating  below.  Of  course 
Mitchel  knew  that  this  could  not  possibly  be  tolerated.  His 
calculation  was  that  the  Government  must  indeed  seize  him, 
but  that  before  he  could  be  struck  down  and  his  paper  be 
suppressed  he  would  have  rendered  revolution  inevitable. 

The  Confederation  leaders  had  indeed  embraced  the  idea 
of  an  armed  struggle,  yet  the  divergence  of  principles  be- 
tween them  and  the  Mitchel  party  was  wide  almost  as  ever. 
They  seemed  marching  toge,ther  on  the  one  road,  yet  it  was 
hardly  so.  For  a  long  time  O'Brien  and  his  friends  held  to 
a  hope  that  eventually  concession  and  arrangement  between 
the  Government  and  Ireland  would  avert  collision.     Mitchel, 

11 


122  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

on  the  other  hand,  feared  nothing  more  than  compromise  of 
any  kind.  They  would  fain  proceed  soberly  upon  the  model 
of  Washington  and  the  Colonies ;  he  was  for  following  the 
example  of  Louis  Blanc  and  the  boulevards  of  Paris.  The 
ideal  struggle  of  their  plans,  if  struggle  there  must  be,  was 
a  well-prepared  and  carefully-ordered  appeal  to  arms,*  and 
so  they  would  wait  till  autumn,  when  the  harvest  would  be 
gathered  in.  "  Rose-water  revolutionists,"  Mitchel  scornfully 
called  them.  "  Fools,  idiots,"  exclaimed  one  of  his  lieu- 
tenants: "they  will  wait  till  muskets  are  showered  down  to 
them  from  heaven,  and  angels  sent  to  pull  the  trigger." 

Behind  all  this  argument  for  preparation  and  delay  there 
undoubtedly  existed  what  may  be  called  the  "conservative" 
ideas  and  principles,  which  some  of  the  leading  Confederates 
entertained.  O'Brien  stormed  against  "  the  Reds,"  as  he 
called  the  more  desperate  and  impatient  men.  They,  on  the 
other  hand,  denounced  him  as  an  "aristocrat"  at  heart,  and  a 
man  Avhose  weakness  would  be  the  ruin  of  the  whole  enter- 
prise. Speaking  with  myself  years  afterwards,  he  referred 
bitterly  to  the  reproaches  cast  upon  him  for  his  alleged 
*'  punctiliousness"  and  excessive  alarm  as  to  anti-social  ex- 


*  A  private  letter  written  from  his  cell  in  Newgate  prison  by  Gavan 
Dutfy  to  O'Brien  in  the  week  preceding  the  outbreak,  and  found  in 
O'Brien's  portmanteau  after  his  arrest,  brings  out  very  curiously  these 
views : 

"I  am  glad  to  learn  you  are  about  to  commence  a  series  of  meetings 
in  Munster.  There  is  no  half-way  house  for  you  ;  you  will  be  the  head 
of  the  movement,  loyally  obeyed  ;  and  the  revolution  will  be  conducted 
with  order  and  clemency,  or  the  mere  anarchists  will  prevail  with  the 
people,  and  our  revolution  will  be  a  bloody  chaos.  You  have  at  present 
Lafayette's  place  as  painted  by  Lamartine,  and  I  believe  have  fallen  into 
Lafayette's  error  of  not  using  it  to  all  its  effect  and  in  all  its  resources. 
I  am  well  aware  that  you  do  not  desire  to  lead  or  influence  others ;  but 
I  believe  with  Lamartine  that  that  feeling,  which  is  a  high  civic  virtue, 
is  a  vice  in  revolutions." 


« « FOR  TV-EIGHT. "  123 

cesses.  "  I  was  ready  to  give  my  life  in  a  fair  fight  for  a 
nation's  rights/'  said  he;  "  but  I  was  not  willing  to  head  a 
Jacquerie." 

But  if  the  whilom  Young  Irelanders  were  thus  split  into 
two  sections,  led  respectively  by  O'Brien  and  Mitchel,  there 
was  a  third  party  to  be  taken  into  account,  the  O'Connellite 
Repealers.  These  were  as  hostile  to  the  revolutionists — 
both  "  rose-water"  and  "  vitriol" — as  were  the  life-long  par- 
tisans of  imperial  rule.  On  the  occasion  of  a  public  ban- 
quet given  to  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  Mitchel  in  the  city  of 
Limerick  in  March,  1848,  an  O'Connellite  mob  surrounded 
the  hall  and  dispersed  the  company  in  a  scene  of  riot  and 
bloodshed.  The  immediate  cause  of  this  astonishing  proceed- 
ing was  an  attack  on  the  memory  of  O'Connell  in  Mitchel's 
paper,  the  dead  tribune  having  been  contumeliously  referred 
to  for  his  "degrading  and  demoralizing  moral-force  doc- 
trines." 

One  important  class  in  Ireland — a  class  long  accustomed  to 
move  with  or  head  the  people — throughout  all  this  time  set 
themselves  invincibly  against  the  contemplated  insurrection : 
the  Catholic  clergy.  They  had  from  the  first,  as  a  body,  re- 
garded the  Young  Irelanders  witii  suspicion.  They  fancied 
they  saw  in  this  movement  too  much  that  was  akin  to  the 
work  of  the  Continental  revolutionists,  and  greatly  as  they 
disliked  the  domination  of  England  they  would  prefer  it  a 
thousand  times  to  such  "  liberty"  as  the  Carbonari  would  pro- 
claim. At  this  time,  in  1848,  the  power  of  the  Catholic 
priests  was  unbroken,  was  stronger  than  ever.  The  famine- 
scenes,  in  which  their  love  for  the  people  was  attested  by 
heroism  and  self-sacrifice  such  as  the  world  had  never  seen 
surpassed,  had  given  them  an  influence  which  none  could 
question  or  withstand.  Their  antagonism  was  fatal  to  the 
movement, — more  surely  and  infallibly  fatal  to  it  than  all  the 
power  of  the  British  Crown. 


124  ^'^^^  IRELAND. 

Lord  Clarendon,  though  fully  aware  that  the  war-policy 
Young  Irelanders  were  comparatively  weak  in  numbers, 
evidently  judged  that  an  outbreak  once  begun  might  have 
an  alarming  development.  He  determined  to  strike  quickly 
and  strike  hard.  On  the  21st  of  March  O'Brien,  Meagher, 
and  Mitchel  were  arrested,  the  first  two  charged  with  sedi- 
tious speeches,  Mitchel  with  seditious  writings.  The  prose- 
cutions against  O'Brien  and  JSIeagher  on  this  indictment 
failed  through  disagreement  of  the  juries.  As  to  Mitchel, 
before  his  trial  by  the  ordinary  course  of  procedure  for  sedi- 
tion could  be  held,  the  Government  passed  through  Parlia- 
ment a  new  law  called  the  "Treason  Felony  Act,"  which 
gave  greater  facilities  for  dealing  with  such  offences.  On 
tiie  22d  of  May  he  was  arraigned  under  the  new  act  in 
Green  Street  Court-house,  Dublin,  and  on  the  26th  was 
found  guilty. 

The  Mitchelite  party  had  determined  and  avowed  that  his 
conviction — any  attempt  to  remove  him  from  Dublin  as  a 
convict — should  be  the  signal  for  a  rising;  and  now  the 
event  had  befallen.  There  can  be  no  question  that  had  they 
carried  out  their  resolution  a  desperate  and  bloody  conflict 
would  have  ensued.  Mitchel  possessed  in  a  remarkable 
degree  the  power  of  inspiring  personal  attachment  and  devo- 
tion; and  there  were  thousands  of  men  in  Dublin  who  would 
have  given  their  lives  to  rescue  him.  The  Government 
were  aware  of  this,  and  occupied  themselves  in  preparations 
for  an  outbreak  in  the  metropolis.  The  Confederation  leaders, 
however,  who  considered  that  any  resort  to  arras  before  the 
autumn  would  be  disastrous,  strained  every  energy  in  dis- 
suading the  ]\Iitchelites  from  the  contemplated  course  of 
action.  The  whole  of  the  day  previous  to  the  conviction  was 
spent  in  private  negotiations,  interviews,  arguments,  and 
appeals.  This  labor  was  prolonged  far  into  the  night,  and 
it  was  only  an  hour  or  two  before  morning  dawned  on  the 


''FORTY-EIGHT.''  125 

27th  of  May,  1848,  that  Dublin  was  saved  from  the  horrors 
of  a  sanguinary  struggle. 

The  friends  of  Mitchel  never  concealed  their  displeasure 
at  the  countermand  thus  effected  by  the  O'Brien  party,  and 
prophesied  that  the  opportunity  for  a  successful  commence- 
ment of  the  national  struggle  had  been  blindly  and  culpably 
sacrificed.  The  consent  of  the  Dublin  clubs  to  abandon  the 
rescue  or  rising  on  tliis  occasion  was  obtained,  however,  only 
on  the  solemn  undertaking  of  the  Confederation  chiefs  that 
in  the  second  week  of  August  the  standard  of  insurrection 
would  absolutely  be  unfurled. 

A  rumor  that  some  such  dissuasion  was  being  attempted — 
that  Smith  O'Brien  and  his  friends  were  opposed  to  the  in- 
tended conflict — spread  through  Dublin  late  on  the  evening 
of  the  26th  of  May,  and  painful  uncertainty  and  apprehen- 
sion agitated  the  city  next  morning.  The  Government, 
though  well  informed  through  spies  of  everything  that  was 
passing,  took  measures  in  preparation  for  all  possible  eventu- 
alities. Mitchel  was  sentenced  to  fourteen  years'  transporta- 
tion beyond  the  seas.  The  court  was  densely  crowded  with 
his  personal  and  political  friends  and  former  fellow-students 
of  Trinity  College.  He  heard  the  sentence  with  composure, 
and  then  a  silence  as  if  of  the  tomb  fell  on  tiie  throng-  as  it 
was  seen  he  was  about  to  speak.  He  addressed  the  court  in 
defiant  tones.  "  My  lords,"  said  he,  "  I  knew  I  was  setting 
my  life  on  that  cast.  The  course  which  I  have  opened  is 
only  commenced.  The  Roman  who  saw  his  hand  burning 
to  ashes  before  the  tyrant  promised  that  three  hundred  should 
follow  out  his  enterprise.  Can  I  not  promise  for  one, — for 
two, — for  three, — ay,  for  hundreds?"  As  he  uttered  these 
closing  words  he  pointed  first  to  John  Martin,  then  to  Devin 
Reilly,  next  to  Thomas  Francis  Meagher,  and  so  on  to  the 
throng  of  associates  whom  he  saw  crowding  the  galleries. 
A  thundering  cry  rang  through  the  building,  "  Promise  for 

11* 


126  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

me,  Mitchel !  Promise  for  me  !"  and  a  rush  was  made  to  em- 
brace him  ere  they  should  see  him  no  more.  The  officers  in 
wild  dismay  thought  it  meant  a  rescue.  Arms  were  drawn ; 
bugles  in  the  street  outside  sounded  the  alarm  ;  troops  hurried 
up.  A  number  of  police  flung  themselves  on  Mitchel,  tore 
him  from  the  embrace  of  his  excited  friends,  and  hurried 
him  throuffh  the  wicket  that  leads  from  the  dock  to  the  cells 
beneath. 

It  may  be  pronounced  that  in  that  moment  the  Irish  insur- 
rectionary movement  of  1848  was  put  down. 

At  an  early  hour  that  morning  the  war-sloop  "  Shearwater" 
was  drawn  close  to  the  north  wall  jetty  at  Dublin  quay. 
There  she  lay,  with  fires  lighted  and  steam  up,  waiting  the 
freight  that  was  being  prepared  for  her  in  Green  Street  Court- 
house. Scarcely  had  Mitchel  been  removed  from  the  dock 
than  he  was  heavily  manacled,  strong  chains  passing  from  his 
wrists  to  his  ankles.  Thus  fettered,  he  was  hurried  into  a 
police-van  waiting  outside  the  gateway,  surrounded  by  dra- 
goons with  sabres  drawn.  At  a  signal  the  cavalcade  dashed 
olF,  and,  skilfully  making  a  detour  of  the  city  so  as  to  avoid 
the  streets  wherein  hostile  crowds  might  have  been  assembled 
or  barricades  erected,  they  reached  the  "  Shearwater"  at  the 
wharf,  Mitchel  was  carried  on  board,  and  had  sc^ircely 
touched  the  deck  when  the  paddles  were  put  in  motion,  the 
steamer  swiftly  sped  to  sea,  and  in  a  few  hours  the  hills  of 
Ireland  had  faded  from  view. 

The  news  of  his  conviction  and  sentence,  the  astounding 
intelligence  that  he  was  really  gone,  burst  like  a  thunder-clap 
on  the  clubs  throughout  the  provinces.  A  cry  of  rage  went 
up,  and  the  Confederation  chiefs  were  fiercely  denounced  for 
what  was  called  their  fatal  cowardice.  Confidence  in  their 
determination  vanished.  Unfortunately,  from  this  date  for- 
ward there  was  for  them  no  retreating.  They  now  flung 
themselves  into  the  provinces,  traversing  the  counties  from 


'' FORTV-EIGHT."  127 

east  to  west,  addressing  meetings,  inspecting  club  organiza- 
tions, inquiring  as  to  armament,  and  exhorting  the  people  to 
be  ready  for  the  fray.  Of  course  the  Government  was  not 
either  inattentive  or  inactive.  Troops  were  poured  into  the 
country ;  barracks  were  improvised,  garrisons  strengthened, 
gunboats  moved  into  the  rivers,  flying  camps  established : 
every  military  dispc^ition  was  made  for  encountering  the 
insurrection. 

In  all  their  calculations  the  Confederate  leaders  had  reck- 
oned upon  two  months  for  preparation,  which  would  bring 
them  to  the  middle  of  August.  By  no  legal  process  of  arrest 
or  prosecution  known  to  them  could  their  conviction  be  ef- 
fected in  a  shorter  space  of  time.  Never  once  did  they  take 
into  contemplation  the  possibility  (and  to  men  dealing  with 
so  terrible  a  problem  it  ought  to  have  been  an  obvious  con- 
tingency) that  the  Government  would  dispense  with  the  slow 
and  tedious  forms  of  ordinary  procedure  and  grasp  them 
quickly  with  avenging  hand.  While  O'Brien  and  Dillon  and 
Meagher,  O'Gorman  and  McGee,  were  scattered  through  the 
country,  arranging  for  the  rising,  lo  !  the  news  reached  Dub- 
lin one  day  in  the  last  week  of  July  that  the  previous  evening 
the  Government  had  passed  through  Parliament  a  bill  for  sus- 
pending the  Habeas  Corpus  Act.  That  night  proclamations 
were  issued  for  the  arrest  of  the  Confederate  leaders,  and 
considerable  rewards  were  offered  for  their  apprehension. 

This  news  found  O'Brien  at  Ballinkeele,  in  Wexford 
County.  He  moved  rapidly  from  thence  through  Kilkenny 
into  Tipperary,  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  in  the  latter 
county  a  considerable  force  with  which  to  march  upon  Kil- 
kenny city, — this  having  been  selected  as  the  spot  whence  a 
provisional  government  was  to  issue  its  manifesto  calling  Ire- 
land to  arms.  Before  any  such  purpose  could  be  effected,  he 
found  himself  surrounded  by  flying  detachments  of  military 
and  police.     Between  some  of  these  and  a  body  of  the  peas- 


128  ^^^^''  IRELAND. 

antry,  who  had  assembled  to  escort  him  at  the  village  of  Bal- 
lingary,  a  conflict  ensued,  the  result  of  which  showed  him  the 
utter  hopelessness  of  the  attempted  rising,  and  in  fact  sup- 
pressed it  there  and  then.  As  the  people  were  gathering  in 
thousands, — and  they  would  have  assembled  in  numbers  more 
than  sufficient  to  defeat  any  force  that  could  then  have  been 
brought  against  him, — the  Catholic  clergy  appeared  upon  the 
scene.  They  rushed  amidst  the  multitude,  imploring  them 
to  desist  from  such  an  enterprise,  pointing  out  the  unprepared- 
ness  of  the  country,  and  demonstrating  the  too  palpable  fact 
that  the  Government  were  in  a  position  to  quench  in  blood 
any  insurrectionary  movement.  "  Where  are  your  arms  ?" 
they  said : — there  were  no  arms.  "  Where  is  your  com- 
missariat?"— the  multitude  were  absolutely  without  food. 
"Where  are  your  artillery,  your  cavahy?  Where  are  your 
leaders,  your  generals,  your  officers?  What  is  your  plan  of 
campaign  ?  Mr.  O'Brien  and  Mr.  Dillon  are  noble-minded 
men ;  but  they  are  not  men  of  military  qualification.  Are 
you  not  rushing  to  certain  destruction  ?"  These  exhortations, 
poured  forth  with  a  vehemence  almost  indescribable,  had  a  pro- 
found effi^ct.  The  gathering  thousands  melted  slowly  away, 
and  O'Brien,  dismayed,  astounded,  and  sick  at  heart,  found 
himself  at  the  head,  not  of  fifty  thousand  stalwart  Tipperary 
men  armed  and  equipped  for  a  national  struggle,  but  of  a  few 
hundred  half-clad  and  wholly  unarmed  peasantry.  Scarcely 
had  they  set  forth  when  they  encountered  one  of  the  police 
detachments.  A  skirmish  took  place.  The  police  retreated 
into  a  substantially-built  farm-house  close  by,  which,  situated 
as  it  was,  they  could  have  held  against  ten  times  their  own 
force  of  military  men  without  artillery.  The  attemi)t  of  the 
peasantry  to  storm  it  was  disastrous,  as  O'Brien  forbade  im- 
perativelv  the  execution  of  the  only  resort  which  could  have 
compelled  its  evacuation.  Three  of  his  subordinates  had 
brought  up  loads  of  hay  and  straw  to  fire  the  building.     It 


' '  FOR  TV- eight:  '  129 

was  the  house  of  a  widow,  whose  five  children  were  at  the 
moment  within.  She  rushed  to  the  rebel  chief,  flung  herself 
on  her  knees,  and  asked  him  if  he  was  going  to  stain  his  name 
and  cause  by  an  act  so  barbarous  as  the  destruction  of  her 
little  ones.  O'Brien  immediately  ordered  the  combustibles  to 
be  thrown  aside,  although  a  deadly  fusillade  from  the  police 
force  within  was  at  the  moment  decimating  his  followers. 
These,  disgusted  with  a  tenderness  of  feeling  which  they  con- 
sidered out  of  place  on  such  an  occasion,  abandoned  the  siege 
of  the  building,  and  dispersed  homewards.  Ere  the  evcnmg 
fell,  O'Brien,  accompanied  by  two  or  three  faithful  adherents, 
was  a  fugitive  in  the  defiles  of  the  Kilnamanagh  Mountains. 
No  better  success  awaited  his  subordinates  elsewhere.  In 
May  they  had  prevented  a  rising ;  now  they  found  the  coun- 
try would  not  rise  at  their  call. 

Soon  after  Mitchel's  transportation,  Duffy  was  arrested  in 
Dublin,  and  on  the  28th  of  July  armed  police  broke  into  the 
Nation  office,  seized  the  number  of  the  paper  being  then 
printed,  smashed  up  the  types,  and  carried  off  to  the  Castle 
all  the  documents  they  could  find.  Throughout  the  country 
arrests  and  seizures  of  arms  were  made  on  all  hands.  Every 
day  the  Hue  and  Cry  contained  new  proclamations  and 
new  lists  of  fugitives  personally  described.  There  was  no 
longer  any  question  of  resistance.  Never  was  collapse  more 
complete.  The  fatal  war-fever  that  came  in  a  day  vanished 
almost  as  rapidly.  Suddenly  every  one  appeared  astounded 
at  the  madness  of  what  had  been  contemplated ;  but  somehow 
very  few  seemed  to  have  perceived  it  a  month  before. 

Throughout  the  remaining  months  of  the  year  Ireland  was 
given  over  to  the  gloomy  scenes  of  special  commissions,  state 
trials,  and  death-sentences.  Of  the  leaders  or  prominent 
actors  in  this  abortive  insurrection,  O'Brien,  Meagher,  Mac- 
Manus,  Martin,  and  O'Doherty  were  convicted;  Dillon, 
O'Gorman  and   Doheny  succeeded    in    accomplishing   their 


130  -^'^f^  IRELAND. 

escape  to  America.  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  MacManus, 
with  one  of  their  devoted  companions  in  danger,  Patrick 
O'Donoghue  by  name,  having  been  convicted  of  high  treason, 
were  sentenced  to  death ;  but,  by  authority  of  a  specially- 
passed  act  of  Parliament,  the  barbarous  penalty  of  hanging, 
disembowelling,  and  quartering,  to  which  they  were  formally 
adjudged,  was  commuted  into  transportation  beyond  the  seas 
for  life.  Duify  was  thrice  brought  to  trial ;  but,  although 
the  Crown  made  desperate  efforts  to  effect  his  conviction,  the 
prosecution  each  time  broke  down,  baffled  by  the  splendid 
abilities  of  the  defence  conducted  by  Mr.  Isaac  Butt,  Q.C 
Eventually  the  proceedings  against  him  were  abandoned. 
Of  less  important  participators  numbers  were  convicted,  and 
hundreds  fled  the  country  never  to  return.  "  Forty-eight" 
cost  L'cland  dearly, — not  alone  in  the  sacrifice  of  some  of  her 
best  and  noblest  sons,  led  to  immolate  themselves  in  such 
desperate  enterprise  as  revolution,  but  in  the  terrible  reaction, 
the  prostration,  the  terrorism,  the  disorganization,  that  en- 
sued. Through  many  a  long  and  dreary  year  the  country 
suffered  for  the  delirium  of  that  time. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


AFTER-SCENES. 


A  SHOT  fired  from  that  farm-house  fortalice  at  Ballingary 
on  the  29th  of  July  went  very  near  to  diverting,  in  a  re- 
markable manner,  the  current  of  recent  Irish  history.  In 
tlie  deadly  fire  which  the  police  directed  on  the  insurgents,  a 
bullet  struck  a  young  Kilkenny  engineer  student  (who  was 
acting  as  aide  or  lieutenant  to  O'Brien),  badly  shattering  his 
leg,  and  otherwise  disabling  him.  Disregarding  his  wound, 
he  refused  to  retire  till  the  utter  failure  of  the  attack  was 
evident  and  the  people  were  in  full  retreat.  Then  he  was 
borne  from  the  spot  and  hurried  off  to  the  mountains,  Avhere, 
hidden  in  a  peasant  sheeling,  he  lay  till  he  was  so  far  recov- 
ered as  to  be  able  to  continue  his  flight.  His  name  was 
James  Stephens.  That  bullet  missed  the  life  of  the  future 
leader  and  chief  of  the  Fenian  conspiracy. 

He  and  Michael  Doheny  linked  their  fortunes  as  fugitives; 
and  of  all  the  narratives  of  escape  that  might  be  told  of  that 
unhappy  time — stories  of  painful  suiferings,  of  keen  priva- 
tions, of  desperate  hazards  and  almost  fatal  dangers — theirs 
unquestionably  would  be  the  most  astonishing.  For  two 
months  they  were  hunted  over  mountain  and  moor,  through 
the  southern  and  southwestern  seaboard  counties,  hiding  in 
the  heather  and  the  bogside,  or  sheltered  in  some  peasant's 
hut,  sentinelled  in  their  brief  and  feverish  slumbers  by  the 
humble  owner  of  the  dwelling.  Frequently  the  closeness  of 
pursuit  compelled  them  to  double  back  on  the  district  it  had 
cost  them  much  suffering  to  get  over ;  and  often,  in  order  to 

reach  a  point  directly  distant  but  an  hour's  walk,  they  had  to 

131 


132  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

make  a  detour  of  several  miles.  Their  great  anxiety  was 
to  reach  some  harbor,  whence  a  boat  might  put  them  off  to  a 
passing  ship.  Doheny  tells  of  their  endeavors  to  cross  the 
Knockmeldoun  Mountains,  and  how  on  the  southern  side  of 
those  lofty  hills  they  came  on  the  famous  Trappist  monastery 
of  Melleray.  "  It  was  Sunday ;  the  cold  and  wet  of  the 
j)revious  evening  liad  given  way  to  calm  and  sunshine,  and 
we  made  rapid  way  along  the  slopes  of  the  Comerahs.  The 
greatest  difiiculty  we  experienced  was  in  passing  deep  ravines. 
The  steep  ascent  and  descent  were  usually  wooded  and  cov- 
ered with  furze  and  briers.  Far  below  gurgled  a  rapid  and 
swollen  mountain-stream,  which  we  crossed  without  undress- 
ing, and  always  experienced  the  greatest  relief  from  the 
cold  running  water.  But  toiling  our  upward  way  through 
trees  and  thorny  shrubs  was  excessively  fatiguing.  About 
three  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  reached  the  picturesque 
grounds  of  Mount  Melleray  Abbey.  We  had  then  travelled 
thirty  miles  of  mountain  without  any  food.  The  well-known 
hospitality  of  the  brothers  was  a  great  temptation  to  men  in 
our  situation,  pressed  by  toil  and  hunger;  but  we  felt  that 
we  possibly  might  compromise  the  abbot  and  brethren,  and 
we  determined  on  not  making  ourselves  known.  We  entered 
the  beautiful  chapel  of  the  abbey  and  ascended  the  gallery 
while  vespers  were  being  sung.  We  found  we  were  alone  on 
the  gallery,  and  had  an  o})portunity  of  changing  our  stock- 
ings and  wiping  the  blood  from  our  feet.  We  remained 
upwards  of  an  hour,  and  then  set  out  but  little  refreshed." 

Skirting  Cork  city,  they  passed  westward  to  the  wild 
mountain-regions  of  Bantry,  Glengariffe,  and  Kenmare. 
Doheny's  literary  habits  and  poetic  inspirations  were  not  to 
be  suppressed,  if  indeed  the  latter  were  not  rather  aroused 
into  greater  activity,  by  the  sufferings  and  perils  of  an  out- 
law's life.  In  the  course  of  this  flight  he  penned  several  of 
his  most  touching  ballads,  jotting  down  the  words  on  the 


AFTER-SCENES.  133 

back  of  an  old  letter  or  on  the  margin  of  a  newspaper.  In 
one  of  these  poems,  addressed  to  Ireland  and  written  in  a 
hut  on  the  Glengariffe  Mountains,  he  bewails  the  fate  of 
himself  and  comrades  : 

****** 
"  'Tvvas  told  of  thee  the  world  around, 
'Twas  hoped  from  thee  by  all, 
That  with  one  gallant  sunward  bound 

Thou'dst  burst  long  ages'  thrall. 
The  moment  came,  alas  I  and  those 

Who  perill'd  all  for  thee 
"Were  cursed  and  branded  as  thy  foes  ; 
A  cuisla  gal  ma  chree. 

****** 
*'  I've  run  the  outlaw's  brief  career, 
And  borne  his  load  of  ill — 
The  troubled  rest,  the  ceaseless  fear — 

With  fix'd  sustaining  will  ; 
And  should  his  last  dark  chance  befall. 

Even  that  will  welcome  be: 
In  death  I'll  love  thee  most  of  all, — 
A  cuisla  gal  ma  chree." 

In  one  of  his  gloomiest  and  most  despondent  hours — news 
had  reached  him  of  the  lamentable  privations  endured  by 
Mrs.  Doheny  in  her  endeavors  to  track  him  through  the 
hills — he  wrote  "  The  Outlaw's  Wife,"  of  which  the  follow- 
ing is  the  first  stanza : 

"  Sadly  silent  she  sits  with  her  head  on  her  hand. 

While  she  prays  in  her  heart  to  the  Ruler  above 
To  protect  and  to  guide  to  some  happier  land 

The  joy  of  her  soul  and  the  spouse  of  her  love  ; 
And  she  marks  by  her  pulses  so  wild  in  their  play 

The  slow  progress  of  time  as  it  straggles  along, 
And  she  lists  to  the  wind  as  'tis  moaning  away, 

And  she  deems  it  the  chant  of  some  funeral  song." 

At  Ken  mare  Doheny  and  Stephens  met  the  friendly  hearts 

12 


134  A^ir  IRELAND. 

and  hands  that  were  eventually  to  effect  their  rescue.  I 
believe  I  name  publicly  for  the  first  time  the  family  to  whom 
those  hapless  fugitives  were  thus  indebted, — the  kinsmen  and 
friends  of  Mr.  MacCarthy  Do'svning,  now  member  of  Parlia- 
ment for  Cork  County.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  honorable 
gentleman  himself  was  most  directly  instrumental  in  ar- 
ranging the  escape.  Stephens  was  got  off  to  France  as  a 
servant  accompanying  a  lady  of  the  family.  Doheny  went 
on  board  the  "  Sabrina"  steamer  at  Cork  quay  driving  some 
bullocks  which  he  was  to  accompany  to  Bristol.  From  the 
latter  city  he  easily  made  his  way  to  London,  and  thence  to 
Paris,  where  not  only  Stephens,  his  late  companion,  but  otiiers 
of  the  escaped  Confederate  leaders  gave  him  an  enthusiastic 
Avelcome. 

He  proceeded  soon  after  to  America,  and  settled  in  New 
York ;  but  Fortune  did  not  smile  on  him,  though  if  a  genial 
nature  and  a  generous  heart  could  have  commanded  wealth, 
Doheny  should  have  been  a  millionaire.  He  died  in  1862. 
Two  little  children,  boys  of  three  and  five  years  respectively, 
accompanied  much  of  their  mother's  wanderings  while  the 
father  was  a  fugitive  in  1848.  Eighteen  hundred  and  sixty- 
seven  found  theui  grown  to  man's  estate,  and  inmates  of 
Mountjoy  Prison,  Dublin,  for  complicity  in  the  Fenian  con- 
spiracy ! 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  none  of  the  numerous  insurgent 
fugitives  who  were  hiding  or  flying  all  over  the  country  were 
betrayed  to  their  pursuers.  There  was  a  price  upon  each 
head, — a  tempting  reward  for  apprehension  or  information, — 
and  minute  personal  descriptions  of  the  accused,  as  given  in 
the  Hue  and  Cry,  were  profusely  distributed  to  assist  in  iden- 
tification.*    They  had  perforce  to  demand  shelter  and  rest 


*  Some  of  these  descriptions  in  the  Government  Hue  and  Cry  were 
certainly  remarkable  literary  ciibrts.     "  Thomas  D.  Wright,"  one  of 


AFTER-SCENES.  135 

from  the  poorest  of  the  poor;  the  famine  still  lingered  in  the 
land ;  and  in  no  case  were  the  peasants  at  a  loss  to  guess  who 
these  applicants  for  concealment  were.  The  wretched  owners 
of  hovels  where  some  of  them  were  housed  for  days  were 
utterly  destitute.  I  myself  knew  one  such  instance.  Dermeen 
Lynch,  of  Dromgarriff,  beneath  whose  roof  Doheny  and  Ste- 
phens were  hidden  and  fed  for  two  days,  was  a  recipient  of 
out-door  relief.  Dermeen  knew  very  well  he  had  but  to  give 
a  signal  to  the  police  sergeant  in  the  Glen  below,  and  three 
hundred  pounds — "  wealth  untold"  in  his  estimation — was 
within  his  grasp.  But  his  sorest  trouble  was  lest  harm  should 
overtake  them  while  under  his  roof.  I  often  talked  with  him 
and  his  wife  over  it  all  afterwards.  He  was  terribly  sorry 
they  ever  came,  and  very  glad  when  they  went  away;  but 

the  Tipperary  insurgents,  is  set  down  as  "  very  talkative,  and  thinks 
himself  a  great  politician  ;  supposed  to  be  at  present  in  the  City  or  Cove 
of  Cork,  as  he  sailed  to  America  from  Liverpool  on  the  13th  of  August 
last."  "John  Sexton"  was  described  as  having  "two  blue  eyes  and 
blind  of  one  of  them  ;"  but  in  a  subsequent  issue  this  was  corrected,  and 
he  was  pictured  as  a  man  "with  one  blue  ej'e  and  blind  of  one  eye." 
"John  Lee"  is  declared  to  have  "  brown  eyes  which  appears  as  if  he  had 
shaved  his  whiskers."  The  following  is  copied  veTbatim  et  literatum 
from  the  Hue  and  Cry  of  December  2,  1848 :  "  Description  of  a  woman 
name  unknown  who  stands  charged  with  having  on  the  26  Nov.  at  Bally- 
henry  in  the  Barony  of  Ikerin  entered  the  dwelling-house  of  Thomas 
Sweeny  and  threatened  to  blow  the  contents  of  a  pistol  through  James 
Hendy  who  lived  in  the  next  house  to  said  Sweeny  but  who  happened  to 
be  from  home  at  the  time :  She  is  twenty-three  years  of  age  five  feet 
nine  inches  high,  stout  make,  fair  complexion,  fair  hair,  gi'ey  eyes ;  wore 
a  felt  hat,  blue  body  coat,  dark  trousers,  and  striped  vest,  a  native  of  the 
county  Tipperary." 

In  1857,  while  travelling  in  America,  I  found  myself  a  welcome  guest 
in  a  charming  little  frame-work  villa  near  Binghamton,  at  the  junction 
of  the  Susquehanna  and  the  Chenango  Rivers.  My  host,  then  a  happy 
and  prosperous  member  of  the  American  bar,  was  the  identical  "  Thomas 
D.  Wright'/  who,  according  to  the  Hue  and  Cry  of  August,  1848,  was 
"supposed  to  be  at  present  in  the  City  or  Cove  of  Cork"  because  "he 
sailed  to  America"  three  weeks  previously. 


136  -^'^'♦^  IRELAND. 

while  they  were  on  his  floor  he  would  die  rather  than  "  sell" 
them. 

It  was  said  that  the  father  of  Thomas  Francis  Meagher 
— a  wealthy  Waterford  merchant,  who  greatly  deplored 
"Tom's"  rebellious  politics — employed  four  brigantines  to 
cruise  off  the  southern  and  western  coasts  to  facilitate  his 
escape.  But  he  never  got  far  from  the  scene  of  the  outbreak 
in  Tipperary.  He  certainly  might  have  made  good  his  way 
out  of  the  country  had  he  cared  to  put  forth  any  great  ex- 
ertion so  to  do;  but,  seeing  how  completely  the  attempt  he 
was  engaged  in  had  failed,  he  thought  a  prompt  and  decisive 
acquiescence  in  that  result  on  the  part  of  the  leaders  and  their 
adherents  would  avert  much  public  disturbance  and  personal 
suffering.  He  thought  also  that  such  a  course  on  the  part  of 
the  leaders,  like  himself,  as  yet  at  large,  might  secure  better 
terms  for  those  who  had  been  captured.  Accordingly  from 
his  asylum  in  the  mountains  he  carried  on,  through  an  influ- 
ential Catholic  clergyman  of  the  district,  a  correspondence  or 
negotiation  with  the  Government,  offering  to  surrender,  and 
to  advise  his  friends  to  a  like  course,  on  certain  conditions 
assured  for  O'Brien.  These  efforts  came  to  naught.  On  the 
night  of  the  12th  of  August  a  police  patrol  on  the  road  from 
Cashel  to  Holycross  passed  three  pedestrians.  The  usual 
friendly  salutations  were  exchanged  between  the  parties,  and 
each  went  its  Avay.  Suddenly  it  occurred  to  the  police  officer 
that  there  was  sometliing  beyond  the  common  in  the  voice 
and  manner  of  the  traveller  who  had  spoken  to  him.  He 
turned  back  and  overtook  the  party.  He  wished  to  question 
one  of  them  privately,  but  the  individual  thus  accosted  re- 
sented such  a  course.  "  Whatever  you  have  to  say  to  me 
must  be  said  in  the  hearing  of  my  friends,"  he  exclaimed. 
"I  have  to  call  upon  you,  then,  in  the  Queen's  name  to  tell 
me  who  you  are,"  said  the  sergeant,  adding  rather  apologetic- 
ally, "  You  know  these  are  troubled  times,  gentlemen,  and 


AFTER-SCENES.  137 

we  are  obliged  to  be  particular."  "All  quite  right,  my 
friend,"  replied  the  spokesman  of  the  party.  "  I  am  Thomas 
Francis  Meagher."  "  I,"  said  one  of  his  companions,  "  am 
Maurice  Richard  Leyne ;"  *  "  And  I,"  added  the  other,  "  am 
Patrick  O'Donohue." 

Dillon,  after  severe  sufferings,  got  on  board  an  emigrant- 
ship  sailing  from  Galway  to  New  York.  He  was  disguised 
as  a  Catholic  priest.  Some  clerical  friend  fully  equipped  him 
in  suitable  attire,  and  presented  hira  with  a  missal,  which,  by 
the  way,  it  was  remarked  he  read  (or  pretended  to  be  reading) 
a  great  deal  oftener  than  a  veritable  clergyman  would  think 
of  doing.  On  board  the  same  ship,  utterly  unknown  to  him, 
was  a  personal  friend,  another  of  the  fugitives,  who  was 
equally  ignorant  of  Dillon's  presence, — Mr.  Patrick  J.  Smyth, 

*  Leyne  was  a  fine  dashing  young  fellow,  genial,  generous,  chival- 
rous. He  was  a  relative  of  O'Connell,  and  was  the  only  member  of  that 
family  who  sided  with  the  Young  Ireland  party  against  the  great 
tribune.  In  July,  1854,  he  died,  I  might  almost  say  in  my  arms,  not 
far  from  the  scene  of  this  arrest.  The  day  after  we  had  buried  him  in 
the  church-yard  of  Thurles,  two  of  his  brothers  and  myself  strolled  to 
Holycross,  distant  three  miles,  to  see  the  ruined  abbey  of  that  name. 
We  rested  a  while  and  took  some  refreshment  in  the  neat  little  wayside 
inn  at  the  abbey  gate.  One  of  my  companions,  whose  resemblance  to 
his  brother  3Iaurice  was  remarkable,  entered  into  conversation  with 
the  proprietress  as  she  busied  herself  in  attending  to  us.  After  a  while 
she  looked  earnestly  at  him.  "  If  you  please,  sir,  are  you  anything  to  the 
gentleman  that  was  buried  in  town  yesterday?"  she  inquired.  "  Yes," 
he  replied  ;  "  why  do  you  ask  ?"  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Oh,  you 
are  so  like  him,  as  he  sat  there,  where  you  are  sitting  this  blessed  minute, 
and  asked  me  for  a  little  bread  and  milk,  the  evening  before  he  and  Mr. 
Meagher  and  the  other  gentleman  were  took  by  the  police  on  the  road 
beyond  I"  And  the  poor  woman  sobbed  outright  as  she  gave  us  several 
particulars  of  their  movements  on  that  day  and  night.  Two  years  ago, 
passing  through  Thurles,  I  sought  the  grave  of  my  friend  Leyne.  The 
grass  was  high  in  the  rank  soil ;  only  after  long  search  I  found  the  spot. 
Above  it  stood  a  simple  slab,  on  which  some  kindly  hand  had  placed 
his  name  and  an  apt  quotation  :  "  He  whose  virtues  deserved  a  temple, 
now  scarce  commands  a  stone." 

12* 


138  ^^E^y  IRELAND. 

now  member  of  Parliament  for  Westmeath.  The  vessel  had 
been  to  sea  for  some  days,  when  Dillon  was  alarmed  by 
noticing  one  of  the  steerage-passengers — a  man  dressed  as  a 
cattle-drover — eying  him  in  a  decidedly  suspicious  manner. 
"  It  is  a  detective,"  thought  the  pseudo-priest :  "  he  recognizes 
me,  and  I  am  lost."  Next  day  his  embarrassment  was  intensi- 
fied by  finding  the  countryman  ever  and  anon  throwing  rather 
familiar  glances  and  furtive  nods  and  winks  at  him.  Event- 
ually, coming  close  up  to  him  on  one  pretext  or  another,  the 
cattle-drover,  in  a  hoarse  under-breath,  hurriedly  whispered, 
"All  right :  Tm  SmythJ^  Dillon  started  back  in  utter  amaze- 
ment, exclaiming,  " Smyth  !"  "Hush  !"  responded  the  other; 
"  we  may  be  watched ;"  and  they  separated  in  the  style  of 
priest  and  peasant,  Dillon  ostentatiously  giving  the  "  coun- 
tryman" a  parting  benediction. 

But  a  new  trouble  fell  on  "  his  reverence."  Among  the 
emigrants  were  a  youthful  pair  of  lovers,  who,  much  mis- 
trusting what  uncertainties  might  befall  in  the  great  land 
beyond,  suddenly  conceived  the  idea  of  getting  married  there 
and  then  on  board,  "  seeing  as  how  there  was  a  priest  in  the 
ship,  just  ready  to  hand."  They  applied  to  Dillon  to  perform 
the  ceremony.  His  dismay  was  inconceivable.  He  most 
piously  exhorted  them  to  wait  till  they  landed.  No.  "  With 
the  blessing  of  God,  now  was  the  time."  He  invented  a 
dozen  excuses,  all  in  vain,  until  he  fortunately  bethought 
him  of  the  plea  that  he  had  not  "  faculties"  from  his  bishop 
that  would  avail  in  such  a  peculiar  case. 

An  accident  divulged  his  secret.  One  day  the  sea  ran  high 
and  the  ship  pitched  and  rolled  violently.  At  dinner  his 
reverence  sat  on  the  right  hand  of  the  captain,  and  was  being 
helped  to  some  mutton,  when  the  ship  suddenly  lurched  and 
flung  dish,  joint,  and  gmvy  full  into  his  bosom.  He  bounced 
from  his  seat  with  a  thundering  oath,  followed  by  a  string  of 
most  unpriestly  expletives,  quite  forgetting  himself,  till  he 


■     \ 

AFTER-SCENES.  139 

saw  the  company  staring  at  him  in  a  strange  way.  The  cap- 
tain especially,  who  shouted  in  laughter,  seemed  enlightened 
by  the  incident.  "  Ah,  my  dear  sir,"  said  he  to  Dillon,  "  I 
have  had  ray  suspicions  for  some  time.  I  can  guess  what  you 
are.  Be  not  afraid.  You  are  safe  from  fear  or  harm."  From 
that  day  forth  Dillon  and  Smyth  resumed  their  real  character, 
and  were  the  object  of  kindliest  attention  from  the  honest 
English  sailor. 

Richard  O'Gorman — "  Young  Richard" — escaped  in  a  ship 
sailing  from  Limerick  to  Constantinople.  His  father,  Richard 
O'Gorman,  senior,  was  a  wealthy  Dublin  merchant,  who  took 
a  leading  part  in  the  Catholic  Emancipation  and  Repeal 
movements.  The  Irish  metropolis  boasted  no  man  more 
esteemed  for  his  personal  virtues,  none  who  stood  higher  in 
commercial  or  political  integrity.  The  old  gentleman  seceded 
along  with  the  Young  Irelanders  from  O'Connell,  and  was  a 
member  of  the  Irish  Confederation.  He  was  not,  however, 
swept  off  his  feet  by  the  revolutionary  "tidal  wave"  in  Feb- 
ruary, and  was,  I  believe,  utterly  opposed  to  the  course  of 
action  into  which  his  friends  and  associates — keener  stroke 
still,  his  only  son  along  with  them — were  rashly  hurried. 
At  Constantinople  young  O'Gorman  and  his  friend  John 
O'Donnell  lay  concealed  until  they  were  able  to  obtain  pass- 
ports to  Algiers.  John  O'Mahony,  a  gentleman  farmer  of 
Kilbeheny,  Tipperary,  whose  high-treason  contribution  was 
an  attempt  to  effect  a  rising  during  the  progress  of  Smith 
O'Brien's  trial,  sailed  from  Bonmahon  to  Wales,  and  thence 
by  way  of  London  to  Paris.  MacManus  was  a  prosperous 
forwarding  agent  in  Liverpool  when  he  suddenly  quitted  the 
counting-house  and  rushed  across  to  Ireland  to  join  Smith 
O'Brien,  as  whose  second  in  command  he  figured  at  Ballin- 
gary  Common.  He  succeeded  in  baffling  all  the  vigilance 
of  pursuit  and  getting  on  board  an  emigrant-ship,  the  "N. 
D.  Chase,"  bound  from  Liverj)ool  to  America.     With  joyful 


140  ^'EW  IRELAXD. 

heart  he  saw  her  put  to  sea;  but  unhappily  for  him  some 
trifling  mishap  caused  the  captain  to  run  for  Queenstown. 
A  merchant's  clerk  in  Liverpool  had,  a  week  previously, 
robbed  his  employers,  and  was  supposed  to  have  got  oif  in 
this  ship.  She  was  boarded  in  Queenstown  harbor  by  the 
police  in  quest  of  the  absconding  clerk.  The  passengers 
were  paraded  ;  the  clerk  was  not  found,  but  a  Liverpool 
policeman  quickly  recognized  a  much  more  valuable  prize 
in  Terence  Bellew  MacManus. 

There  is  in  many  respects  a  dismal  sameness  about  state 
trials  for  high  treason,  and  yet  they  seem  to  have  a  weird  inter- 
est for  spectator  and  for  reader.  Meagre  and  terse  as  are  the 
reports  which  we  possess  of  the  so-called  trials  in  which  the 
last  of  the  Tudors  rid  themselves  of  supposed  or  real  "  trai- 
tors," they  have  a  gloomy  fascination  all  their  own,  and  por- 
tray for  us  more  faithfully  than  many  more  elaborate  efforts 
do  the  condition  of  public  affairs  at  that  time.  It  may  be 
truly  said  that  for  four  weeks,  extending  from  the  23d  of 
September  to  the  21st  of  October,  the  attention  of  Ireland 
was  riveted  on  the  Tipperary  County  Court-house  in  Clon- 
mel,  where  the  insurgent  leaders  William  Smith  O'Brien, 
Thomas  Francis  Meagher,  and  Terence  Bellew  MacManus 
were  on  trial  for  their  lives.  O'Brien  was  defended  by 
Mr.  Whiteside,  Q.C.  (afterwards  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the 
Queen's  Bench),  Mr.  Francis  Fitzgerald,  Q.C,  and  Sir  Cole- 
man O'Loghlen,  Q.C.  Meagher  was  defended  by  Mr.  White- 
side, Q.C,  and  Mr.  Isaac  Butt,  Q.C. ;  MacManus  by  the 
same  bar.  Of  their  conviction  there  could  have  been  little 
doubt.  Xo  skill  of  advocacy  could  struggle  against  the  facts 
of  the  case.  But  there  was  at  least  one  incident  of  the  trials 
which  created  an  unprecedented  sensation.  It  be«\me  known 
that  the  defence  intended  to  subpoena  Major-General  Sir 
Charles  Xapier  and  the  Prime  Minister,  Lord  John  Russell. 
What  was  this  for  ?     It  was  for  a  purpose  the  effectuation  of 


AFTER-SCEyES.  141 

■which,  though  subsequently  found  to  be  technically  forbidden 
by  the  rules  of  evidence,  would  certainly  hav^e  thrown  a  start- 
ling light  upon  the  conduct  and  fate  of  the  men  in  the  dock. 
General  Napier  was  summoned  to  give  up  a  letter  in  his  pos- 
session proving  that  men  at  that  moment  holding  office  as 
ministers  of  the  Crown,  Lord  John  Russell,  the  First  Minis- 
ter, included,  had  in  1831-32  secretly  devised  and  arranged 
for  a  proceeding  precisely  similar  to  that  for  which  these  pris- 
oners were  now  on  trial,  namely,  a  resort  to  arms,  a  popular 
rising,  in  order  to  compel  the  Government  to  yield  the  popu- 
lar demands.  It  was,  to  be  sure,  pretty  well  known  that  at 
that  period  the  English  Reform  leaders  were  under  the  im- 
pression that  the  threatened  "  march  of  Birmingham  on 
London"  might  have  to  be  carried  out ;  but  that  they  had 
gone  so  far  sis  to  arrange  details  of  the  revolutionary  move- 
ment, and  had  selected  the  military  men  on  whom  they  relied 
to  take  command  of  the  insurgents,  was  a  story  which  stag- 
gered all  belief.  Yet  so  it  was.  In  truth,  the  course  adopted 
by  the  Irish  Repeal  Confederates  in  1 848  was  in  many  respects 
almost  identical  with  that  adopted  by  the  English  Reform 
Confederates  in  1831  and  1832.  In  the  summer  of  1831 
the  Lords  threw  out  the  Reform  Bill,  and  the  Reform  Min- 
istry appealed  to  the  country  in  a  general  election.  Not  alone 
in  this  direction  was  their  appeal  energetically  pushed.  It  was 
also  decided  that  failing  any  other  means  an  armed  revolution 
was  to  clear  the  road  blocked  up  by  the  obstructive  House  of 
Peers.  Political  clubs  or  "unions"  -were  established  all  over 
the  country,  the  "  National  Political  Union"  of  London  being 
the  head  centre.  Every  Englishman  between  twenty-five  and 
forty-five  was  called  on  to  enroll  himself  and  to  learn  "how 
to  resist  oppression."  The  great  object  was  to  eifect  what  the 
Times  of  that  date  called  "  a  national  armament  for  a  reform 
of  law."  So  much  was  open,  public,  known  to  the  world. 
But  something  of  what  was  passing  behind  the  scenes  is 


142  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

revealed  in  the  folIoAving  "  secret  and  confidential"'  letter  of 
Lord  Melbourne's  private  secretary,  Mr.  Thomas  Young,  to 
General  C.  J.  Napier,  written  from  the  Home  Office  ("  H. 
O.")  on  the  date  which  it  bears : 

"  H.  C,  June  25,  '32. 
"  Mt  dear  Napier, — 

"Sir  H.  Bunbury  told  me  of  your  wise  determination  not  to  become 
'  a  Parliament  man,'  at  least  for  the  present.  The  offer  was  very  tempt- 
ing, and  you  have  the  more  merit  in  declining.  I  refrained  from  writing 
to  you  while  the  matter  was  undecided,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  obtrude 
my  opinion ;  but  I  felt  that  reason  was  against  your  acceptance,  as  your 
health,  your  purse,  and  your  comfort  would  all  have  suffered  by  your 
attendance  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The  History  must  have  been  laid 
aside.  You  could  not,  moreover,  have  been  a  calm  and  silent  member, 
but  would  have  been  exerting  yourself  to  push  onward  the  movement 
faster  than  it  probably  will  march,  or  than,  perhaps,  all  things  consid- 
ered, it  is  desirable  that  it  should  march. 

"  Let  us  go  back  a  moment. 

''  The  display  of  energy,  and  a  readiness  to  act,  on  the  part  of  the  peo- 
ple when  the  Duke  of  W was  on  the  eve  of  coming  in  was  greater  far 

than  I  expected.  I  speak  not  of  the  Cockneys,  but  of  the  men  in  the 
north, — Glasgow,  Newcastle,  Birmingham.  Are  you  aware  that  in  the 
event  of  a  fight  you  were  to  be  invited  to  take  the  command  at  Birming- 
ham ?  Parkes  got  a  frank  from  me  for  you  with  that  view,  but  had  no 
occasion  to  send  it.  Had  he  written,  I  should  have  fired  a  despatch  at 
you  with  my  friendly  and  anxious  counsel  and  entreat}'  to  keep  you 
quiet  and  not  to  stir  from  Freshford.  It  is  not  well  to  enter  ea?-ly  into 
revolutions  :  the  first  fall  victims.  What  do  you  think  would  have  hap- 
pened ?  The  Reformers — Place,  etc. — talked  big  to  me,  and  felt  assured 
of  success.  The  run  upon  the  banks,  and  the  barricading  of  the  popu- 
lous country  towns,  would  have  brought  matters  to  a  crisis  ;  a  week  they, 
the  Reformers,  thought  would  finish  the  business.  Thej'  meant  so  to 
agitate  here  that  no  soldiers  could  have  been  spared  from  London ;  and 
the  army  is  too  small  elsewhere  to  have  put  down  the  rebels.  In  Scot- 
land I  believe  the  most  efleetual  blow  would  have  been  struck ;  and  it 
seems  difficult  to  have  resisted  the  popular  movement.  The  Tories, 
however,  say  the  Duke  would  have  succeeded.  No  doubt  the  discipline 
under  which  soldiers  live  might  have  proved  a  stronger  element  than 
the  public  enthusiasm,  i.e.,  unless  the  latter  was  universal  or  extensive, 
and  then  it  would  have  carried  all  before  it.  The  task  would  have  been 
to  bring  back  society  to  its  former  quiet  state.     Thank  God  we  have 


AFTER-SCENES.  143 

been  spared  the  trial ;  but  as  a  matter  of  speculation,  tell  me  what  you 
think  would  have  been  the  result?  Am  I  right  in  my  conjecture  that 
you  would  have  refused  the  Birmingham  invite  and  kept  your  sword  in 
its  scabbard  ? — Yours  ever  truly, 

"T.  Y. 

"  Thanks  for  your  first  volume.     Jones  has  come  back  better." 

This  was  very  much  the  plan  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and 
Dillon  seemed  to  have  in  view.  By  keeping  the  metropolis 
in  a  state  of  excitement,  menace,  and  alarm,  the  chief  portion 
of  the  troops  would  be  detained  therein,  while  the  "  barri- 
cading of  the  populous  towns"  would  have  brought  matters 
to  a  crisis  in  the  provinces.  They  too  thought  it  would  be 
"  difficult  to  have  resisted  the  popular  movement,"  and  that 
"public  enthusiasm"  "would  have  carried  all  before  it." 
None  of  them,  however,  could  now  exclaim,  "Thank  God 
we  have  been  spared  the  trial."  They  were  not  spared  it, 
and  the  result  to  them  was  ruin. 

As  to  "  my  dear  Napier,"  the  Reform  Confederates  in  the 
"  H.  O."  mistook  their  man.  Sir  Charles  was  much  of  a 
Radical,  but  he  was  more  of  a  soldier.  He  had  very  stern 
ideas  of  discipline  and  loyalty,  and  he  quite  fired  up  on 
receipt  of  "  T.  Y.'s"  astounding  communication,  in  which  he 
was  so  cleverly  "  felt"  as  to  whether  he  would  not  have 
drawn  his  sword  as  an  insurgent  commander.  He  replied 
in  terms  of  strong  indignation.  He  called  the  proposition 
an  insult  to  his  honor  as  a  soldier  and  his  loyalty  as  a  sub- 
ject. As  to  the  communication  being  "confidential,"  he 
repelled  any  obligation  of  confidence  between  him  and  "con- 
spirators." He  would,  however,  he  said,  make  no  public 
use  of  the  letter  unless  in  one  event,  namely,  if  ever  any  of 
the  men  who  were  concerned  in  this  1831  business  attempted 
to  prosecute  others  for  similar  designs,  he  would  hold  him- 
self at  liberty  to  hand  over  the  letter  as  a  punishment  on  its 
authors  and  a  warnins:  to  all  whom  it  miffht  concern. 


144  -i^^-Eir  IRELAND. 

This  event  exactly  had  arisen,  and  Sir  Charles  at  once  gave 
"  T.  Y.'s"  letter  to  the  public. 

It  was  not  allowed  to  be  put  in  evidence  at  Clonniel.  Two 
Avrongs  do  not  make  a  right.  In  the  eye  of  the  law  it  could 
be  no  excuse  for  "William  Smith  O'Brien  that  Lord  Mel- 
bourne or  Mr.  Attwood,  or  Lord  John  Russell  or  Mr.  Young, 
had  intended  if  necessary  to  do  in  1831  what  he  conspired 
to  attempt  in  1848.  So  O'Brien  and  Meagher,  a(nd  Mac- 
Manus  and  O'Donohue,  having  been  found  guilty  of  high 
treason,  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged,  beheaded,  disem- 
bowelled, and  quartered. 

The  revelations  of  the  "  T.  Y."  letter  had,  howev^er,  one 
striking  result :  they  rendered  impossible  the  execution  of 
this  death-sentence.  Although  in  Spain  the  successful  rebel 
of  Monday  who  is  the  prime  minister  of  Tuesday  orders  the 
unsuccessful  conspirator  of  AYednesday  to  be  shot  on  Thurs- 
day, it  was  felt  that  for  '*  T.  Y.'s"  friends  to  advise  the 
Queen's  signature  to  O'Brien's  death-warrant  would  be  too 
much  for  public  opinion.  There  Avas  a  legal  difficulty  in 
the  way  of  avoiding  such  a  terrible  event ;  but  ex  post  facto 
legislation  is  quite  common  and  very  convenient  in  Irish 
aifairs.  A  S2)ecial  act  was  passed  whereby  the  capital  sen- 
tences were  commuted  in  each  case  to  penal  servitude  beyond 
the  seas  for  life;  and  on  the  29th  of  July,  1849,  the  first 
anniversary  of  the  abortive  rising,  the  war-brig  "  Swiftsure" 
sailed  from  Kingstown  harbor,  bearing  O'Brien,  ^leagher, 
MacManus,  and  O'Donohue  to  the  convict  settlements  of 
Australia. 


CHAPTER    X. 


THE   CRIMSON   STAIN. 


At  eleven  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  1st  of 
March,  1848,  three  murderers  were  led  out  to  die  in  front  of 
Clonrael  jail.  Around  the  scaffold  were  assembled  a  dense 
throng  of  jjeople,  townsmen  and  peasants,  men  and  women, 
every  eye  strained  on  the  three  gibbets  and  the  three  looped 
cords  that  swayed  in  the  morning  breeze.  In  all  the  crowd 
no  voice  denied  that  these  men  deserved  their  doom.  The 
crime  was  black;  the  evidence  clear;  the  conviction  just. 
And  yet  even  before  the  dismal  procession  of  the  condemned 
came  into  view,  pitying  exclamations  might  be  heard  bewail- 
ing that  they  should  perish  thus  "  so  young."  Close  by  the 
scaffold  glittered  the  bayonets  of  two  companies  of  the  47th, 
and  on  the  flank  the  drawn  sabres  of  the  4th  Light  Dragoons. 
It  was  plain  that  the  authorities  did  not  choose  to  trust 
merely  to  the  strong  party  of  police  which  occupied  the 
other  side  to  guard  against  eventualities. 

A  murmur  from  the  crowd  directed  attention  to  a  figure 
which  appeared  on  the  scaffold.  It  was  the  hangman.  He 
coolly  examined  the  ropes,  and  looked  to  the  noose  of  each  to 
see  whether  it  ran  smoothly.  He  tried  the  drops  or  traps, 
and  shot  the  bolts  to  ascertain  whether  they  were  clear  and 
free.  So  far  the  people  gazed  silently,  as  these  performances 
were  gone  through ;  but  when  they  saw  him  pull  out  of  his 
pocket  a  piece  of  soap  or  grease  and  apply  it  to  the  ropes,  a 
yell  of  indignation  arose,  and  he  disappeared  through  the 
doorway  into  the  jail  amidst  a  storm  of  execration. 

Soon  the  prison-bell  began  to  toll,  and,  as  the  death-knell 
K  13  145 


146  -^'^F  IRELAND. 

sounded,  the  crowd  fell  on  their  knees.  Through  the  door- 
way leading  to  the  scaffold  there  emerged  the  tall  figure  of 
Father  John  Power  (the  present  Catholic  Bishop  of  Water- 
ford),  in  surplice  and  soutane;  his  voice,  reciting  the  Office 
for  the  Dying,  reaching  to  the  farthest  bound  of  the  hushed 
multitude.  Then  came  the  prisoners, — three  young  men, 
two  of  them  brothers;  and,  foul  as  w%as  their  crime,  one  now 
could  understand  the  compassion  of  the  Momen  in  the  crowd. 
They  were  really  fine-looking  yoimg  peasants;  the  eldest 
could  hardly  have  been  twenty-three.  The  brothers,  Henry 
and  Philip  Cody,  were  to  be  executed  for  the  murder  of 
Laurence  Madden,  nine  months  before;  and  John  Lonergan 
— *'  the  widow's  son,"  as  he  was  designated  by  the  witnesses 
on  the  trial — for  shooting  Mr.  AVilliam  Rae,  J.P.,  at  Rock- 
well. The  executioner  first  put  the  rope  around  the  neck 
of  Lonergan,  who  asked  the  people  all  to  pray  for  him. 
Henry  Cody,  who  stood  at  the  narrow  doorway,  saw  the 
process  which  was  so  soon  to  be  gone  through  Avith  himself. 
As  if  in  answer  to  Lonergan's  appeal,  he  cried  aloud,  "Lord 
Jesus,  have  mercy  on  us  !  Lord,  have  mercy  on  him  !  Lord, 
have  mercy  on  us !"  Then  the  hangman  approached  the 
younger  Cody,  and,  having  put  the  cap  on  his  face,  began 
to  place  the  noose  on  his  neck.  In  so  doing,  it  is  thought, 
he  made  some  observation  M'hich  reached  Henry's  ear.  At 
sound  of  the  voice  he  started  as  if  pierced  by  an  arrow.  He 
ceased  praying,  and  was  observed  to  tremble  from  head  to 
foot.  The  fact  is,  it  was  currently  reported,  though  I  believe 
quite  groundlessly,  that  the  man  who  acted  as  executioner 
was  the  identical  Crown  wifnps<;  whn  h^rl'nH  thp  ppopip  ex- 
pressed it,  "  sworn  away  the  lives"  of  the  hapless  brothers. 
That  he  marvellously,  resembled  him  is,  at  all  events,  indu- 
bitable ;  and  whether  the  elder  CodyTiad  heard  the  rumor, 
or  recognized,  as  he  fancied,  the  voice  of  the  "approver/' 
there  is  now  no  knowing;  but,  plainly, he  believed  this  was 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  147 

the  man.  He  sprang  at  the  hangman,  and,  with  his  bound 
and  manacled  hands,  smote  him  again  and  again.  Then 
he  seized  him,  dragged  him  to  the  front,  and  by  majn  force 
tried  to  fling  him  over  the  railing  of  the  scaffold.  It  was  an 
awful,  a  horrible  sight !  Murderer  and  hangman  gripped  in 
deadly  struggle,  the  latter  screaming  aloud  for  mercy  and  for 
help.  Beyond  doubt,  Cody,  even  with  arms  strapped  and 
pinioned,  would  have  succeeded  in  his  deadly  purpose  had 
not  some  of  the  warders  rushed  over.  The  younger  brother 
heard  the  struggle,  and  knew  something  unusual  had  hap- 
pened;  but,  having  the  cap  over  his  face,  he  could  not  see. 
Father  Power,  fearful  lest  he  might  know  what  it  was,  kept 
resolutely  at  his  side,  fervently  ]X)uring  prayers  and  exliTta- 
tions  into  his  ear.  At  last  Philip  heard  Henry's  voice  in  the 
struggle,  and,  despite  all  the  priest  could  do,  he  managed  to 
tear  the  covering  from  his  face,  when,  lo !  he  saw  his  brother 
and  the  hangman  in  frightful  encounter.  He  tried  to  rush 
to  Henry's  aid,  but  Father  Power  flung  his  arms  around 
him.  ^'  Oh,  my  child,  my  child  !  for  the  sake  of  that  Jesus, 
your  God  who  gave  Himself  to  His  executioners,  do  not,  do 
not!  Oh,  think  of  the  Son  of  God  !  oh,  think  you  are  going 
to  meet  your  Creator  and  Judge!"  And  the  good  priest, 
fairly  overcome,  sobbed  aloud.  Then  the  unhappy  young 
man  let  his  head  fall  on  Father  Power's  shoulder,  and  he  too 
cried  like  a  child  :  "  Oh,  Henry  !  Henry  !  My  brother !  My 
brother !     Oh,  God !     Oh,  God !" 

Eye-witnesses  of  that  scene  speak  of  it  to-day  only  with  a 
shudder.  The  idea  of  launching  into  the  presence  of  God 
men  with  souls  aflame  with  passion  of  deadliest  hate  and  ven- 
geance was  something  dreadful  to  contemplate;  and  Father 
Power  appealed  to  the  sheriff  to  postpone  for  a  while  the 
execution.  That  gentleman  himself,  utterly  shocked  and 
indeed  overcome,  would  willingly  have  complied,  but  there 
was  a  legal  compulsion  then  and  there  to  carry  out  the  law ; 


148  iS'^ir  IRELAND. 

and  the  brothers,  who  for  a  moment  had  been  taken  to  the 
rear  of  the  scaifold,  were  again  brought  forward.  The  people, 
who  throughout  had  given  way  to  the  deepest  emotion, — 
women  crying  and  wailing,  others  praying  aloud,  and  sev- 
eral fainting, — thought,  for  a  moment,  the  execution  would 
be  put  oif.  When  they  saw  the  condemned  led  out  again, 
a  roar  of  grief  and  anger  rose  from  the  crowd,  but  at  a 
gesture  from  Father  Power  they  suddenly  hushed,  and  once 
more  sank  on  their  knees.  The  three  men  were  held  on  the 
traps ;  the  bolts  were  drawn,  and  justice  was  vindicated,  under 
circumstances  such  as  I  hope  may  never  be  paralleled  in  our 
land. 

This  was  but  one  day's  work  out  of  several  of  a  similar 
character  in  that  spring  of  1848.  The  assizes  that  year 
were  heavy,  and  Tipperary,  unfortunately,  had  contributed  a 
gloomy  calendar.  The  petisantry  of  that  county,  physically 
one  of  the  finest  peoples  in  the  world,  have  strong  character- 
istics, strangely-mixed  vices  and  virtues.  They  are  hot  and 
passionate ;  brave  and  high-spirited ;  deadly  in  their  ven- 
geance ;  generous,  hospitable ;  ready  to  repay  kindness  with 
kindness,  hate  with  hate,  violence  with  violence.  When  not 
under  the  influence  of  passion,  "  more  fearful  than  the  storm 
that  sweeps  their  hills,"  they  are  one  of  the  most  peaceable, 
orderly,  and  moral  populations  in  the  empire.  There  seems 
to  be  hardly  any  middle  character  in  Tipperary  assizes.  The 
calendar  is  either  a  blank  as  to  serious  offences,  or  is  black 
with  crimes  that  tell  how  lightly  human  life  is  valued  Avhere 
revenge  reduces  men  to  savagery.  Many  of  the  most  serious 
of  these  outbursts  in  that  county  had  tlicir  origin  in  provoca- 
tion in  which  technical  law  and  actual  justice  were  wofully 
antagonized ;  and  the  facts  that  most  deeply  shock  one  in 
contemplating  the  subject — the  cowardly  selfishne&s  or  guilty 
connivance  of  eye-witnesses  of  murder,  or  the  sympathy  and 
shelter  extended  to  the  assassin — are  the  evil  and  accursed 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  149 

fruit  of  a  system  which  had  made  the  people  look  upon  "law" 
as  an  enemy,  not  a  protector. 

It  is  now  some  twenty  years  since,  on  the  occasion  of  an 
execution  for  murder  in  Tipperary  which  agitated  all  Ireland, 
— the  han<!;ino;  of  the  brothers  Cormack  for  the  murder  of 
Mr.  Ellis,  of  Templeniore — I  decided  to  go  down  specially 
to  visit  the  scene  of  the  crime,  being  anxious  to  satisfy  my- 
self as  to  the  controversy  then  raging  in  reference  to  the 
innocence  or  guilt  of  the  executed  men.  During  my  stay  I 
was  the  guest  of  a  gentleman  whose  friendship  was  a  passport 
to  the  intimate  confidence  of  the  peasantry.  I  spent  some 
time  in  driving  and  riding  with  him  through  the  county ; 
and  not  only  did  I  ascertain  the  real  history  of  the  particular 
case  I  came  to  investig-ate,  but  I  gathered  from  sources  ac- 
cessible  to  few  a  goodly  store  of  information  on  the  whole 
subject  of  the  land-feud  in  Tipperary.  It  was  very  evident 
that  nothing  less  than  a  state  of  war,  sullenly  smouldering 
or  fiercely  bursting  into  flame,  had  prevailed  for  half  a  cen- 
tury between  class  and  class  in  that  county.  The  later 
troubles  commenced  with  nocturnal  raids  for  arms.  Long 
before  they  took  the  shape  of  personal  violence  or  direct 
attempt  on  life,  the  disturbances  in  Tipperary  seemed  to  have 
entirely  for  their  object  the  possession  of  such  guns,  pistols, 
or  blunderbusses  as  could  be  obtained  by  attacking  the  houses 
of  the  gentry.  Every  night  the  country  was  scoured  by 
parties  of  men  demanding  arms,  and  taking  them  by  force 
where  refused.  As  might  have  been  easily  foreseen,  this  very 
speedily  and  inevitably  led  to  life-taking  on  both  sides;  and 
then,  blood  once  spilt,  a  dreadful  state  of  things  ensued.  The 
audacity  and  daring  of  the  peasantry  in  some  of  these  attacks 
were  truly  marvellous.  They  publicly  erected  a  barricade 
across  the  mail-coach  road  in  the  parish  of  Boherlahan,  near 
Clonoulty,  in  order  to  rob,  not  the  mail-bag  or  its  contents, 
but  the  arms  of  the  mail-guard.    The  fact  that  the  coach  was 

13* 


150  -^^^"^  IRELAND. 

known  to  have  a  dragoon  escort,  so  far  from  deterring  them, 
only  offered  a  greater  inducement  to  the  enterprise ;  for  the 
dragoons  carried  sabres  and  carbines.  Two  of  the  peasantry, 
a  man  named  Lahy,  and  another  named  Ryan,  were  told  off 
the  night  before  to  encounter  the  dragoons  while  two  others 
attacked  the  coach.  At  the  first  volley  one  of  the  dragoons 
fell  dead.  The  other  fled.  The  coach-guards  made  more 
resolute  defence.  For  five  minutes  a  deadly  fire  was  main- 
tained between  them  and  the  assailants;  but  eventually  the 
latter  prevailed,  and  all  the  guns  and  pistols  in  the  coach, 
eleven  stand  of  arms,  were  handed  over.  Strange  to  say,  none 
of  the  attacking  party  were  seriously  wounded,  though  beside 
the  dragoon  who  was  killed  some  of  the  guards  and  two  of 
the  passengers  suffered  more  or  less  severely.  Listening  to 
these  narratives  from  eye-witnesses,  and  in  some  instances,  I 
more  than  suspect,  participators,  what  most  perplexed  and 
confounded  me  was  the  way  in  which,  in  the  midst  of  some 
episode  of  lawlessness  and  sanguinary  violence,  some  trait  of 
fidelity  or  act  of  generosity  would  appear  "  like  a  fly  in 
amber."  The  "servant-boy,"  who  would  go  out  at  night 
"  in  turn"  to  rob  other  houses,  would  quite  resolutely  defend 
his  own  master's  residence  against  his  companions,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  "  not  fair"  to  api)roach  a  door  intrusted  to 
his  care.  The  house  of  a  Mr.  Fawcett,  a  Protestant  gentle- 
man farmer  near  Cashel,  was  attacked,  of  all  days  in  the 
year,  on  a  Christmas-day.  The  gentleman  himself  was  away 
in  Dublin ;  and  the  place  was  in  charge  of  his  son,  aged 
twenty,  and  a  servant-boy  named  Gorman.  A  servant-girl 
saw  a  party  of  men  coming  up  the  lawn,  and,  guessing  their 
errand,  she  rushed  in  and  gave  the  alarm.  Gorman  recog- 
nized them  well  enough;  he  had  been  "out"  with  them 
many  a  night  on  similar  work ;  but  now  he  wias  in  charge  of 
"  the  master's"  property,  and  he  would  defend  it.  He  and 
young  Fawcett  barricaded  the  hall  door  and  windows.     Some 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  I5I 

of  the  assailants  got  in  through  the  rear  of  the  house,  but  a 
cross-door  in  the  hall  barred  their  way  to  where  the  guns 
which  they  wanted  were  kept.  This  they  sought  to  force, 
Gorman  expostulating  and  threatening  to  fire.  They  seem 
not  to  have  credited  this,  and  persisted,  when,  finding  the 
door  likely  to  yield,  he  aimed  through  a  small  fan-light  at 
the  top  and  mortally  wounded  the  chief  assailant,  a  young 
man  named  Buckley.  The  party  fled,  carrying  their  dis- 
abled leader;  but  eventually  they  found  that  escape  was 
impossible  with  a  wounded  man,  streaming  with  blood,  in 
their  arms.  What  were  they  to  do?  They  hid  him  in  some 
brushwood  near  a  running  stream,  telling  him  on  no  account 
to  make  a  noise,  and  promising  that  they  would  return  for 
him  at  night.  He  endured  great  agony  from  thirst,  and, 
his  resolution  giving  way,  he  cried  aloud  for  water.  Some 
women  coming  from  mass  heard  the  moans,  and,  discovering 
where  he  lay,  brought  him  some  water  in  his  hat.  This 
done,  he  implored  them  to  "pass  on,  and  say  nothing." 
They  knew  what  was  meant,  and  silently  went  their  way. 
When  night  fell,  his  companions  returned  with  a  door  on 
which  to  bring  him  home;  but  as  they  were  fording  the  Suir 
at  Ballycamus  they  discovered  that  it  was  a  corpse  they  were 
bearing.  He  was  dead !  Deciding  not  to  shock  his  poor 
mother  by  bringing  the  body  to  the  door,  they  concealed  it 
in  a  brake,  setting  watches  to  guard  it  day  and  night  till  they 
could  give  it  suitable  interment.  By  this  time,  of  course, 
tidings  of  the  attack  on  Mr.  Fawcett's  house  had  reached  the 
authorities,  and  Mr.  Wilcox,  E-.M.,  and  Captain  Long,  J.P., 
of  Longfield,  with  a  strong  party  of  police,  commenced  to 
search  from  house  to  house  for  a  wounded  man,  so  as  to  get 
a  clue  to  his  companions.  Gorman,  who  had  shot  Buckley, 
and  who  knew  him  well,  declared  that  all  the  assailants  were 
utter  strangers  !  Buckley's  companions  made  a  levy  on  the 
associates  throughout  the  barony,  and  raised  fifty  pounds  for 


152  ^^^  IRELAND. 

his  mother,  to  whom  they  broke  the  news  of  his  fate.  "When 
the  magistrates  asked  her  where  her  son  was,  she  said  he  had 
gone  to  seek  work  near  Cuhir.  Buckley  had  a  grand  mid- 
night funeral ;  but  some  one  "  peached ;"  Captain  Long  got 
word  of  the  burial,  and  next  night,  at  the  head  of  a  party  of 
police,  came  to  disinter  the  body  and  examine  it.  Some  one, 
however,  peached  on  the  police  too,  for  an  hour  before  they 
arrived  at  the  grave-yard  the  coffin  had  been  dug  up  by 
Buckley's  comrades  and  carried  oif  to  the  mountains.  It  is  a 
positive  fact  that  for  two  months  this  chase  after  the  corpse 
went  on  :  four  or  live  times  it  was  buried,  and  as  often  hur- 
riedly disinterred.  At  length  the  search  had  to  be  given  up, 
and  one  night  Buckley  was  borne  back  to  his  father's  grave 
at  Ballyshehan,  where  he  has  since  lain.  The  dismal  sequel 
to  this  strange  story  is  that  Captain  Long,  for  having  exerted 
himself  so  actively  in  the  endeavor  to  discover  Buckley's 
associates,  was  shot  dead  in  his  own  house  souie  few  months 
subsequently. 

"  Cut"  Quinlan  is  a  name  that  will  long  be  remembered 
in  Tipperary.  Two  brothers  Quinlan,  Michael  and  "  Cut," 
— the  latter  a  sobriquet — lived  in  the  parish  of  Anacarthy, 
not  far  from  the  Limerick  Junction  railway-station.  They 
held  a  small  farm  from  a  Mr.  Black.  On  the  same  estate  lived 
four  brothers  named  Hennessy,  one  of  whom  filled  the  dan- 
gerous office  of  "  rent-warner"  to  jMr.  Black.  The  Quinlans 
were  evicted,  and  they  suspected  the  Hennessys  had  led  Mr. 
Black  to  the  act, — a  suspicion  strengthened  to  conviction 
when  the  land  from  which  they  had  been  dispossessed  was 
given  to  the  Hennessys.  In  that  hour  a  frightful  purpose 
took  possession  of  "  Cut."  It  was  nothing  less  than  a  re- 
solve to  pursue  to  death  every  one  of  the  Hennessys.  The 
rent-warner,  Dennis,  was  shot  about  three  months  after  the 
eviction  of  the  Quinlans.  Tom  Hennessy  was  waylaid  and 
murdered  on  the  public  road  from  Anacarthy  to  Graflbn.    No 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  153 

evidence  could  be  found  to  connect  "  Cut"  with  either  crime, 
though  no  one  doubted  his  guilt.  Davy  Hennessy,  seeing 
that  destruction  awaited  the  family,  emigrated  to  America. 
Here,  however,  he  was  encountered  and  shot  dead  by  the 
younger  Quinlan.  What  became  of  the  fourth  Hennessy  I 
never  heard.  "  Cut"  Quinlan  now  gave  himself  up  to  a 
career  of  desperation,  constituting  himself  a  sort  of  general 
avenger  against  bailiffs,  agents,  landlords,  and  all  other 
"  oppressors"  in  the  county.  A  peasant  widow  in  consider- 
able distress  had  her  scanty  household  goods  and  farm-stock 
seized  for  poor-rate.  Three  keepers  who  were  in  charge  of 
the  seizure  were  spending  the  night  in  the  parlor  of  the 
house,  when  suddenly  about  midnight  the  window  was  dashed 
in  and  the  blood-thirsty  "  Cut"  sprang  into  the  room.  The 
bailiffs  knew  they  had  no  mercy  to  expect,  and  tried  to  make 
for  the  door.  He  shot  one  dead.  Another  in  his  terror  at- 
tempted to  escape  up  the  chimney.  The  murderer  pulled 
him  down  by  the  feet  and  blew  out  his  brains  with  a  pistol- 
shot.  The  third  by  this  time  had  jumped  through  the  win- 
dow and  got  out.  Quinlan  followed,  overtook,  and  shot  him. 
No  one  survived  to  tell  the  bloody  tale  to  judge  or  jury,  and 
the  assassin  walked  abroad  unpunished. 

At  length  "  Cut"  began  to  find  that  popular  feeling  had 
been  decidedly  revolted  by  his  career,  and  things  were  getting 
uncomfortable  for  him.  He  disappeared,  no  one  for  some 
time  knew  whither.  Eventually  letters  reached  Ana(!arthy 
to  say  that  "  Cut"  had  enlisted  in  the  service  of  the  Queen, 
and  was  now  in  India.  Years  flew  by.  Sobraon,  Aliwal, 
and  Chillianwallah  had  stirred  the  heart  of  England,  and 
the  glory-crowned  troops  of  Great  Britain  came  home  to  re- 
ceive a  nation's  welcome.  In  their  ranks  returned  "  Cut" 
Quinlan.  He  had  fought  through  the  Sutlej  campaign,  had 
distinguished  himself  as  the  most  daring  and  courageous, 
and,  incredible  as  it  sounds,  one  of  the  best-conducted  men 


154  ^^^^^  IRELAND. 

in  the  regiment !  He  took  his  discharge  from  the  army,  and 
came  back  to  Tipperary,  where  it  soon  became  notorious  that 
he  was  once  more  the  leader  in  every  outrage.  One  day 
Father  Mullaly,  parish  priest  of  Anacarthy,  was  riding  home 
from  a  sick  call,  when  he  overtook  "  Cut."  "  Quinlan,"  said 
he,  "  1  heard  you  conducted  yourself  well  in  India.  I  wish 
to  Gud  you  had  stayed  there,  for  your  own  sake  and  every 
one  else's !" 

"  Shure,  yer  reverence,  where  should  one  come  to  but  his 
native  place?" 

"  Ah,  Quinlan,  the  place  for  one  to  come  to  is  where  he  will 
not  revolt  God  and  man  with  crime." 

"  Crime !  yer  reverence  !  Crime !  is  it  me " 

"  Silence,  sir !  don't  attempt  this  trifling  with  me.  You 
know  well,  Quinlan,  the  life  you've  been  leading.  You  have 
escaped  the  law  for  want  of  evidence,  but  you  won't  escape 
God.  His  justice  will  not  be  balked.  Wretched  man,  you 
have  been  in  the  thick  of  battle  in  India.  While  bullets  rained 
around  you,  God  spared  you,  perhaps  to  give  you  yet  another 
chance  of  repentance.  I  had  hoped  when  you  came  home  that 
I  should  see  you  a  reformed  man.  I  am  your  pastor;  God 
will  require  of  me  an  account  of  your  soul,  will  ask  what 
efforts  I  have  made  to  bring  you  to  the  paths  of  virtue.  Oh, 
wretched  man  !  I  implore  of  you,  by  the  merciful  God  whose 
forbearance  you  are  outraging,  give  up  your  course  of  crime. 
Come  to  the  tribunal  of  })enance,  and  by  hearty  sorrow  and 
honest  life  endeavor  to  repair  the  scandal  you  have  given." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  appeal  "  Cut"  looked  on  every 
side  to  see  if  he  could  escape  by  a  run ;  but  he  knew  Father 
Mullaly  well;  and  furthermore  he  knew  Father  Mullaly'a 
cob  could  take  fence  and  dike  like  a  greyhound.  He  could 
not  fly,  and  had  to  listen. 

"  AVell,  Quinlan,  will  you  make  up  your  mind  to  come  to 
confession,  in  the  name  of  God  ?" 


THE   CRIMSON  STAIN.  155 

"  Well,  yer  reverence,  shure  'tis  you  that  can  spake  hard 
to  a  boy,  only  I  know  you  mane  it  for  good." 

"  But  will  you  come  ?     Answer  me,  sir." 

"Oh!  will  I,  is  it?  Well,  do  ye  see,  sir — of  course  'tis 
right  I  should  go  to  ray  duty." 

"  But  will  you  promise  ?" 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"  I  will,  yer  reverence." 

"But  when ?  next  Saturday ?" 

"  Ah,  now,  Father  Mullaly,  you're  coming  too  hard  on  me 
entirely.     There  are  raysons  why  I  can't  go." 

"Reasons  why  you  can't  become  reconciled  with  Almighty 
God,  by  repenting  your  past  crimes  and  resolving  to  amend 
in  the  future  ?" 

"  Well,  now,  yer  reverence,  the  fact  of  it  is  there's  a  thief 
of  a  Scotchman  beyant  there  that  I " 

"  What,  sir — what  ?  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  to  my 
face  that  you  meditate  more  crime " 

"  Oh,  no,  yer  reverence :  I  only  mane  I'm  not  able  yet  to 
say  I  forgive  these  infernal  Scotchmen  who  come  over  here 
taking  ten  or  twenty  farms  from  honest  people  ;  begor,  taking 
a  whole  country-side  for  a  sheep-walk,  and  the  people  turned 
out  to  die.  No,  Father  Mullaly,  I  won't  go  to  confession,  for 
I  can't  say  'tis  a  sin  I'd  be  sorry  for  to  shoot  a  Scotchman." 

The  parish  priest,  undaunted,  returned  to  the  attack,  and 
pressed  "  Cut"  so  hard  that  at  length  he  promised  faithfully 
he  would  come  to  confession  and  "  make  his  peace  with  God" 
on  Saturday. 

On  that  day  Father  Mullaly,  sitting  in  his  confessional, 
saw  "  Cut"  enter  the  chapel  and  kneel  on  the  floor  in  a  se- 
cluded spot.  The  priest  waited  and  waited,  till  two  hours 
flew  by.  He  could  see  Quinlan  in  fervent  prayer,  beating 
his  breast,  and  actually  wetting  the  floor  w'ith  his  tears.  But 
he  made  no  sign  towards  approaching  the  confessional.     At 


156  ^^^^V  IRELAND. 

length  Father  Mullaly  had  to  come  away,  leaving  Quinlan 
still  bowed  on  the  floor.  A  fortnight  later  they  met  once 
more,  and  the  parish  priest  was  beginning  to  reproach  "  Cut," 
when  the  latter  exclaimed,  "Say  nothing  to  me  to-day,  yer 
reverence.  I'm  going  on  Monday."  Monday  came,  and  the 
former  scene  was  repeated  with  like  result.  Quinlan  prayed 
for  hours,  but  avoided  the  confession.  Nearly  two  months 
elapsed  before  his  reverence  was  able  to  catch  sight  of  "  Cut," 
W'lio,  in  fact,  w^as  avoiding  liim.  At  last  they  accidentally 
encountered.  "  Cut,"  said  the  priest,  "  I  ask  you  no  more. 
Go  now  your  path  of  crime.  I  have  done  my  best,  and  I 
leave  you  to  God.     You  are  a  coward  and  a  liar." 

Quinlan  jumped  with  a  spasm  of  passion,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  fire.  Curbing  himself,  however,  he  said,  "No,  no, 
Father  Mullaly ;  no.  You  never  were  more  wrong  in  your 
life.  I  am  neither  a  coward  nor  a  liar,  but  I  know  that  I'd 
be  bound  in  confession  to  give  up  shooting  bad  landlords,  and 
that  I  never  will :  so  good-by." 

Father  Mullaly  saw  "  Cut"  no  more.  But  as  long  as  the 
fox  runs  he  is  trapped  at  last.  Quinlan  was  caught  almost 
red-handed  in  a  murderous  attack,  and  was  tried  for  it  at 
Clonmel  assizes.  He  wrote  to  Chatham,  where  his  former 
regiment  was  now  stationed,  and  told  a  piteous  tale  of  inno- 
cence to  his  captain,  beseeching  him  by  the  memory  of  cer- 
tain past  services  to  come  over  to  Clonmel  and  "  speak  for 
him"  in  court.  According  to  my  informants,  who  were,  I 
believe,  jiresent  on  the  occasion  when  the  trial  came  on, 
"Cut"  paid  little  attention  to  the  proceedings,  but  from  time 
to  time  swept  the  audience  with  anxious  eye.  As  the  case 
was  concluding,  Quinlan's  former  captain  hurriedly  entered 
and  took  a  seat  in  the  grand  jury  box.  "  My  lord,"  said  the 
prisoner,  "  I  have  one  witness.  Hear  his  story,  and  say  am 
I  likely  to  be  the  man  whom  these  other  people  think  they 
can  identify  as  a  murderer."     The  officer  was  sworn,  and  told 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  157 

of  "  Cut"  what  I  have  already  mentioned, — his  exemplary 
conduct,  his  steadiness,  his  undaunted  bravery.  "  Most  of 
the  time  he  Avas  my  own  servant," he  continued,  "and  a  truer 
soldier  never  lived.  My  lord,  I  owe  my  life  to  his  fidelity 
and  heroism.  On  the  day  of  Sobraon,  when  shot  and  shell 
flew  like  hail,  I  fell  amidst  a  heap  of  our  brave  fellows  torn 
by  the  enemy's  fire.  AVhen  no  man  of  ordinary  courage  would 
face  that  storm  of  death,  this  faithful  fellow  rushed  in,  care- 
Jess  of  his  life,  found  me  where  I  lay,  and  bore  me  in  his 
arms  from  the  field.  Thank  God  I  am  here  to-day,  I  hope 
to  save  his  life.  He  would  be  incapable  of  the  crime  laid  to 
his  charge." 

Alas  for  the  inconsistencies  of  human  nature, — of  Tip- 
perary  human  nature,  at  all  events  !  The  jury  knew  "  Cut" 
better  and  longer  than  the  captain  did.  The  evidence  satis- 
fied them  of  his  guilt,  and  they  were  otherwise  aware  of  his 
desperate  career.  They  found  him  guilty  of  manslaughter, 
and  he  was  transported  for  life  beyond  the  seas. 

Here,  surely,  was  a  strange  amalgam.  Up  to  the  day  of 
his  eviction  this  man  had  lived  the  ordinary  uneventful  life  of 
a  peasant.  From  that  hour  forth  he  seemed,  like  the  char- 
acter in  Sue's  story,  "  to  see  blood."  He  would  dare  almost 
inevitable  death  to  save  his  English  master.  He  would  refuse 
every  entreaty  of  his  religious  pastor  and  lifetime  friend  im- 
ploring him  to  turn  from  a  course  of  merciless  vengeance  and 
revolting  crime. 

It  must  be  said  that  thirty  or  forty  years  ago  the  adminis- 
tration of  justice  in  these  cases  partook  very  often  of  the 
rough-and-ready  style.  The  evil  idea  of  "striking  terror," 
and  the  practice  of  relying  too  largely  on  the  evidence  of  "  ap- 
provers,"— often  perjured  villains  who  had  been  themselves 
the  real  criminals, — led  betimes  to  the  worst  results.  One 
cannot  spend  a  night  amidst  the  fireside  group  in  a  Tipperary 
farm-house,  as  I  have  frequently  done,  without  hearing  stories 

14 


158  i\^£Tr  IRELAND. 

of  men  hanged  for  oifences  of  which  they  were  wholly  inno- 
cent, the  identification  being  stupidly  wrong ;  the  peasantry 
will  tell  you  it  was  wilfully  false.  I  was  inclined  to  think 
there  might  be  some  proclivity  to  such  an  impression  on  the 
part  of  the  population ;  but  I  am  bound  to  say  evidence 
irrefragable  convinced  me  that  justice  blundered  sadly  in 
some  of  those  displays  of  precipitancy  and  passion,  miscalled 
salutary  vigor. 

Agrarian  crime  has  not  totally  disappeared.  Evils  so  deep- 
rooted  are  not  soon  or  easily  expelled.  Ever  and  anon  even 
still  we  are  startled  and  horrified  by  some  incident  remind- 
ing us  of  gloomy  days  we  had  fondly  hoped  were  gone  for- 
ever. But  a  thousand  signs  proclaim  that  though  in  Ireland, 
as  in  England  and  in  every  country,  crime  in  various  shapes 
will  last,  in  some  degree,  as  long  as  human  passion,  yet 
agrarian  outrages  as  we  used  to  know  them  formerly — 
ghastly  campaigns  in  a  sort  of  civil  war — will  soon  belong 
entirely  to  the  past  of  Irish  history.  How  the  system  which 
produced  tiiem  received  its  death-blow  is  a  story  that  will 
come  in  its  proper  place.  But  it  is  tiie  sad  fact  that  thirty 
years  ago  Ireland  })assed  through  some  of  the  most  terrible 
episodes  of  that  dismal  struggle. 

Two  things  astonish  most  persons  who,  from  a  distance', 
contemplate  agrarian  crime  in  Ireland.  The  first  is  the  neg- 
ative or  positive  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  rural  population 
that  appears  to  surround  the  criminals;  or,  at  all  events,  the 
absence  of  any  co-operation  witii  the  law  in  its  pursuit  of 
them.  The  second  is  a  fact  I  have  glanced  at  in  the  case  of 
Tipperary,  namely,  that  a  district  the  scene  of  such  violence 
is  at  other  intervals  and  in  other  respects  peaceable,  orderly, 
and  law-abiding.  In  the  course  of  many  years'  observation, 
I  satisfied  myself  those  outrages — I  do  not  speak  of  isolated 
acts  of  agrarian  crime,  but  of  those  tempests  that,  for  a  time, 
raged  in  particular  districts — had  a   sort  of  class  history; 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  159 

certain  features  or  characteristics ;  certain  originating  causes 
that  might  be  discerned  more  or  less  in  all  of  them.  Not  in 
every  particular  case,  certainly,  but  in  most  of  them,  study 
reveals  something  like  this  movement  in  a  vicious  circle. 

A  district  formerly  disturbed  has  been  peaceable  for  some 
time.  Landlord  and  tenant  have  got  along  very  fairly  in  a 
sort  of  truce,  armed  or  unarmed,  negatively  hostile  or  posi- 
tively friendly.  After  a  while  some  agent  less  considerate 
than  those  around  him  conceives  an  "  improvement,"  an  in- 
crease of  rent,  a  few  new  "  rules  of  the  estate,"  a  batch  of  evic- 
tions on  the  title.  In  the  general  quietude  the  thing  may  be 
done  without  much  noise  or  resistance,  and  he  succeeds.  His 
example  is  followed  and  extended.  Other  agents  or  landlords 
go  on  pushing  to  its  utmost  limits  technical  legal  right  as 
opposed  to  actual  equity.  Some  one,  more  reckless  than  all 
the  rest,  leads  the  way.  He  intimates  that  he  knows  how  to 
deal  with  these  peojile.  *'  Firmness,"  he  says,  will  do  it  all, 
and  he  ostentatiously  carries  revolvers  in  his  coat-pocket.  A 
sullen,  gloomy  calm,  which  every  one  accustomed  to  Irish 
life  well  knows  to  be  the  herald  of  a  storm,  seems  to  assure 
him  of  immunity.  He  is  fired  at,  but  happily  escapes.  Now 
he  "  must  make  an  example."  He  will  not  be  cowed  by 
would-be  assassins.  Out  the  threatened  tenants  must  go. 
One  day  the  news  flashes  through  tiie  country  that  this  gen- 
tleman has  been  shot  dead  under  circumstances  of  great  bru- 
tality. A  shudder  of  horror  goes  through  one  section  of  the 
community.  A  shout  of  joy  or  a  muttered  exclamation  of 
approval*  is  sent  forth  by  another.     One  portion  of  the  press 

*  A  near  relative  of  a  young  friend  of  mine  owns  a  shop  for  the  sale 
of  general  merchandise  in  a  large  town  in  the  county  Mayo.  One 
market-day  the  shop  was  unusually  full  of  country-people,  when  sud- 
denly some  strange  stir  was  noticed  among  them.  Every  man  in  the 
throng  was  observed,  one  by  one,  to  lift  his  hat,  and  heard  to  ejaculate 
in  a  low  voice,  quite  reverentially,  "Glory  be  to  Godl"  "What  has 
happened?  what  are  you  all  praying  for?"  said  the  proprietress  to  one 


160  ^^E\V  IRELAND. 

devotes  itself  to  invectives  against  the  murderers  and  their 
sympathizers ;  another  to  denunciations  of  the  conduct  on  the 
victim's  part  out  of  which  this  tragedy  arose.  Every  threat- 
ened tenant  in  the  locality  and  throughout  the  country  sees 
in  the  assassin  an  avenger.  The  blow  he  has  strupk  is  a 
deterrent  that  will  save  hundreds.  The  police  are  refused 
all  assistance  in  efforts  to  capture  him  ;  and,  sheltered  by  the 
people,  he  escapes. 

It  is  at  this  point  all  the  harm,  all  the  woful  moral  rot  and 
social  disruption,  commence.  It  is  just  here  all  the  mischief 
which  arises  from  an  antithesis  of  law  and  justice  sets  in. 
Emboldened  by  the  escape  of  this  assassin,  or  encouraged  by 
the  sympathy  manifested  for  his  guilty  deed,  some  wretch 
with  far  less  cause  of  complaint  than  he  had,  and  who  but 
for  this  example  of  murder  would  have  shrunk  from  such  an 
act,  now  strikes  at  some  other  life.  Another  and  another 
follow,  on  slighter  and  slighter  provocation,  as  the  moral 
atmosphere  becomes  more  and  more  tainted  by  what  has  gone 
before,  until,  eventually,  every  cowardly  miscreant  who  has  a 
personal  grudge  to  satiate  swells  the  list  of  atrocities,  and 
crimes  are  multiplied  which  disgust  and  affright  even  those 
who  hailed  the  first  shot  with  a  fatal  approval.  At  length 
the  hangman's  work  is  found  to  be  in  accord  with  the  popu- 
lar conscience.  The  landlords  and  agents  have  fought  the 
fight  of  their  class  unflinchingly;  but  they  heartily  wish  the 
storm  had  never  been  raised.  The  farmers  contend  that 
the  first  case  was  one  of  frightful  provocation,  but  agree  that 
the  thing  has  led  to  bad  work  all  round.  Both  sides  now 
have  had  enough  of  it.  The  shootings  and  the  hangings 
die  out,  and  for  another  period  of  years  there  is  peace  and 
tranquillity  in  the  district. 

of  them.  "  Oh  !  glory  be  to  God,  ma'am,  did  you  not  hear  the  news?" 
he  replied :  "  the  greatest  tyrant  in  the  county  Mayo  was  shot  this 
morninsr  1" 


THE  CRIMSON  STAIN.  161 

I  have  seen  all  this,  again  and  again,  pass  before  my  eyes. 
Of  course  the  programme  was  not,  in  every  particular,  the 
same  in  every  case;  occasionally  a  murder  for  which  the 
human  mind  could  conceive  no  palliation  began  the  accursed 
business;  but  in  what  may  be  called  the  more  serious  out- 
bursts of  agrarian  violence  the  general  course  of  the  dismal 
story  was  very  much  as  I  have  described  it.  As  a  rule,  the 
first  tragedy  was  one  which  had  some  terrible  provocation 
behind  it.  As  a  rule,  the  latter  outrages  were  the  very 
wantonness  of  ruffianism  and  crime. 

I  know  of  no  Irish  topic  on  which  candid  truthful  and 
independent  writing  and  speaking  are  more  rare  than  this  of 
agrarian  crime.  The  outrages  in  many  cases  were  so  fearful 
that  no  one  durst  speak  a  word  as  to  their  having  had  some 
cause,  without  exposing  himself  to  a  charge  of  palliating  or 
sympathizing  with  them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  provoca- 
tion often  was  so  monstrous  that  if  one  execrated  the  crime 
as  it  deserved  to  be,  he  was  supposed  to  be  callously  indif- 
ferent to  the  avidity,  the  greed,  the  heartlessness  that  led  up 
to  it.  Thus,  thirty  years  ago,  nay,  twenty  years  ago,  or  less, 
the  creation  of  a  healthy  public  opinion  on  the  subject  was 
impossible.  We  stood  arrayed,  one  and  all  of  us,  in  one  or 
other  of  two  hostile  camps :  tiiat  of  the  landlords,  in  appar- 
ent approval  of  merciless  evictions ;  or  that  of  the  tenants, 
in  apparent  sympathy  with  red-handed  murder.  Yet  occa- 
sionally on  both  sides  there  must  have  been  many  a  good 
man,  many  a  true  patriot,  who  in  his  secret  heart  bewailed 
the  terrible  state  of  things  that  thus  convulsed  and  affi'ighted 
society,  and  who  yearned  for  the  day  when  the  page  of 
Ireland's  story  would  be  blotted  no  more  by  this  crimson 
stain. 


14* 


CHAPTER   XL 

"  LOCHABER    NO   MOEE !" 

A  HIGHLAND  friend  whose  people  were  swept  away  by  the 
great  "  Sutherland  Clearances,"  describing  to  me  some  of  the 
scenes  in  that  great  dispersion,  often  dwelt  with  emotion  on 
the  spectacle  of  the  evicted  clansmen  marching  through  the 
glens  on  their  way  to  exile,  their  pipers  playing,  as  a  last 
farewell,  "  Lochaber  no  more  !" 

"  Lochaber  no  more  I  Lochaber  no  more  ! 
We'll  may-be  return  to  Lochaber  no  more  !" 

I  sympathized  with  his^  story ;  I  shared  all  his  feelings.  I 
had  seen  my  own  countrymen  march  in  like  sorrowful  pro- 
cession on  their  way  to  the  emigrant-ship.  Not  alone  in  one 
district,  however,  but  all  over  the  island,  were  such  scenes  to 
be  witnessed  in  Ireland  from  1847  to  1857.  Within  that 
decade  of  years  nearly  a  million  of  people  were  "cleared" 
off  the  island  by  eviction  and  emigration. 

A  bitter  memory  is  held  in  Ireland  of  tlie  "  Famine  Clear- 
ances," as  they  are  called.  There  was  much  in  them  that  was 
heartless  and  deplorable,  much  also  that  was  unfortunately 
unavoidable.  Three  years  of  dreadful  privation  had  annihi- 
lated the  resources  of  the  agricultural  population.  In  1848, 
throughout  whole  districts,  the  tenant-farmers — the  weak  and 
wasted  few  who  survived  hunger  and  plague — were  without 
means  to  till  the  soil.  The  exhaustion  of  the  tenant  class 
involved,  in  numerous  cases,  the  ruin  of  the  landlords.  A 
tenantry  unable  to  crop  the  land  were  of  course  unable  to 
pay  a  rent.  Many  of  them,  so  far  from  being  in  a  position 
162 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE.'"  163 

to  pay,  rather  required  the  landlord's  assistance  to  enable 
them  to  live. 

Apart  from  all  question  as  to  the  disposition  of  the  Irish 
landlords  to  yield  such  aid,  it  is  the  indubitable  fact  that,  as 
a  class,  they  were  utterly  unable  to  aiford  it.  Some  of  them 
nearly  extinguished  their  own  interests  in  their  estates  by 
borrowing  money  in  1848, 1849,  and  1850,  to  pull  the  tenants 
through. 

Too  many  of  the  Irish  landlords  acted  differently ;  and  for 
the  course  they  adopted  they  were  not  the  only  persons  to 
blame.  The  English  press  at  this  juncture  embraced  the 
idea  that  the  Irish  Famine,  if  properly  availed  of,  would 
prove  a  great  blessing.  Providence,  it  was  declared,  had 
sent  this  valuable  opportunity  for  settling  the  vexed  question 
of  Irish  misery  and  discontent.  Nothing  could  have  been 
done  with  the  wretched  population  that  had  hitherto  squatted 
on  the  land.  They  were  too  poor  to  expend  any  capital  in 
developing  the  resources  of  the  soil.  They  were  too  ignorant 
to  farm  it  scientifically.  Besides,  they  were  too  numerous. 
Why  incur  ruinous  expense  to  save  or  continue  a  class  of 
landholders  so  undesirable  and  injurious?  Rather  behold  in 
what  has  happened  an  indication  of  the  design  of  Providence. 
Ireland  needs  to  be  colonized  with  thrifty  Scotch  and  scientific 
English  farmers  ;  men  with  means ;  men  with  modern  ideas. 

Thus  pleaded  and  urged  a  thousand  voices  on  the  English 
shore ;  and  to  impecunious  Irish  landlords  the  suggestion 
seemed  a  heavenly  revelation.  English  tenants  paid  higher 
rents  than  Irish,  and  paid  them  punctually.  English  "  colo- 
nists" would  so  farm  the  land  as  to  increase  its  worth  four- 
fold. English  farmers  had  a  proper  idea  of  land-tenure, 
and  would  quit  their  holdings  on  demand.  No  more  worry 
with  half-pauperized  and  discontented  fellows  always  behind 
with  their  rent,  always  wanting  a  reduction,  and  never  willing 
to  pay  an  increase !     No  more  annoyance  from  tenant-right 


1(34  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

agitators  and  seditious  newspapers ;  no  more  dread  of  Rib- 
bonite  mandates  and  Rockite  warnings  !  Blessed  hour !  El 
Dorado  was  in  sight ! 

To  men  circumstanced  as  the  Irish  landlords  were  in  1848, 
these  allurements  were  sure  to  prove  irresistible.  They  formed 
the  theme  and  substance  of  essay,  speech,  and  lecture  in  Eng- 
land at  the  time.  Some  writers  put  the  matter  a  little  kindly 
for  the  Irish,  and  regretted  that  the  regeneration  of  the  country 
had  to  be  accomplished  at  a  price  so  painful.  Others,  unhap- 
pily, made  no  secret  of  their  joy  and  exultation.  Here  was 
the  opportunity  to  make  an  end  of  the  Irish  difficulty.  The 
famine  had  providentially  cleared  the  way  for  a  great  and 
grand  Avork,  if  England  was  but  equal  to  the  occasion.  Now 
was  the  time  to  plant  Ireland  with  a  British  population. 

One  now  can  afford  to  doubt  that  the  men  who  spoke  and 
wrote  in  this  way  ever  weighed  the  effect  and  consequences 
of  such  language  on  a  people  like  the  Irish.  I  recall  it 
in  a  purely  historical  spirit,  to  identify  it  as  the  first  visible 
oriirin  and  cause  of  a  state  of  things  which  disagreeably  chal- 
lenges  English  attentioji, — the  desperate  bitterness,  the  deadly 
hatred  of  England,  which  the  emigrant  thousands  carried 
with  them  from  Ireland  to  America.  To  many  an  English- 
man that  hostile  spirit  must  seem  almost  inexplicable.  "  If 
Irishmen  have  had  to  emigrate,"  they  say,  "  it  was  for  their 
own  good  and  advantage :  why  should  they  hate  England  for 
that?  Englishmen  also  emigrate  in  thousands  every  day." 
There  is  no  need  to  dwell  upon  the  painful  circumstances 
that  distinguish  the  Irish  exodus  from  the  adventurous  emi- 
gration  of  Germans  or  Swedes  or  Englishmen.  The  Irish- 
man who  comes  to  tell  the  story  of  these  famine-evictions, 
and  the  emigration-panic  which  followed,  finds  himself,  in 
truth,  face  to  face  with  the  origin  of  Irish- American  Fenian- 
ism. 

It  may  be  that,  even  if  the  tempting  idea  of  "  colonization" 


''LOCHABER   NO   MORE!"  IQq 

had  never  aiFected  their  minds,  a  certain  section  of  the  Irish 
landlords  would  have  had  to  pursue,  in  a  greater  or  less  de- 
gree, the  course  they  followed.  What  were  they  to  do  ? 
Penniless  lords  of  penniless  tenants,  it  seemed  a  miserable 
necessity  that  they  should  sacrifice  the  latter ;  as  one  drowning 
man  drives  another  from  a  plank  insufficient  to  support  them 
both.  Be  this  as  it  may,  in  the  track  of  the  Irish  Famine 
came  such  wholesale  "clearances"  as  never  had  been  known 
in  the  history  of  land-tenure.  Of  course  no  rents  had  been 
paid — because  none  could  be  paid — by  a  great  jjart  of  the 
Irish  tenantry  during  the  famine-years,  and  the  holdings  were 
technically  forfeit  to  the  landlord  for  "  non-payment  of  rent." 
At  a  later  stage,  even  in  cases  where  no  rent  was  due,  evic- 
tions were  carried  out  all  the  same,  to  "  clear"  the  land  and 
change  the  farms  to  sheep-walks  and  bullock-ranges.  The 
quarter-sessions  courts  now  presented  a  strange  spectacle.  The 
business  of  these  tribunals  swelled  to  enormous  dimensions, 
from  two  classes  of  cases,  actions  against  farmers  for^  meal, 
seed-corn,  and  cash  lent,  and  ejectment  processes.  I  have 
seen  the  latter  literally  in  piles  or  sheaves  on  the  desk  before 
the  clerk,  and  listened  for  hours  to  the  dull  monotony  of 
"  calling"  and  "  marking"  the  cases.  No  defences  were  at- 
tempted ;  none  could  be  maintained. 

Then  came  the  really  painful  stage  of  the  proceedings, — 
the  evictions. 

With  the  English  farmer,  as  a  rule,  the  termination  of  his 
tenancy  is,  I  believe,  little  more  inconvenient  or  distressing 
than  the  ordinary  "  Michaelmas  flitting"  of  a  town  resident 
from  one  house  to  another.  He  has  hired  the  use  of  a  farm 
with  all  its  appurtenances,*  fixtures,  and  conveniences,  fur- 
nished in  good  order  by  the  landlord,  just  as  one  might 
engage  a  fishing-boat  by  the  week  or  by  the  day,  or  rent  a 
shooting,  with  cosy  box  or  mountain-lodge,  for  a  season. 
Very  far  diiferent  is  the  case  with  the  Irish  tenant.     As  a 


166  iV^^fT  IRELAND. 

rule,  his  farm  has  been  to  him  and  his  forefathers  for  genera- 
tions a  fixed  and  cherished  home.  Every  bush  and  brake, 
every  shrub  and  tree,  ev^ery  meadow-path  or  grassy  knoll,  has 
some  association  for  him  which  is,  as  it  were,  a  part  of  his 
existence.  Whatever  there  is  on  or  above  the  surface  of  the 
earth  in  the  shape  of  house  or  office  or  steading,  of  fence  or 
road,  or  gate  or  stile,  has  been  created  by  the  tenant's  hand. 
Under  this  humble  thatch  roof  he  first  drew  breath,  and  has 
grown  to  manhood.  Hither  he  brought  the  fair  young  girl 
he  won  as  wife.  Here  have  his  little  children  been  born. 
This  farm-plot  is  his  whole  dominion,  his  world,  his  all :  he 
is  verily  a  part  of  it,  like  the  ash  or  the  oak  that  has  sprung 
from  its  soil.  Removal  in  his  case  is  a  tearing  up  by  the 
roots,  where  transplantation  is  death.  The  attachment  of  the 
Irish  peasant  to  his  farm  is  something  almost  impossible  to  be 
comprehended  by  those  who  have  not  spent  their  lives  among 
the  class  and  seen  from  day  to  day  the  depth  and  force  and 
intensity  of  these  home  feelings. 

An  Irish  eviction,  therefore,  it  may  well  be  supposed,  is  a 
scene  to  try  the  sternest  nature.  I  know  sherifls  and  sub- 
sheriffs  who  have  ])rotested  to  me  that  odious  and  distressing 
as  were  the  duties  they  had  to  perform  at  an  execution  on  the 
public  scaffold,  far  more  painful  to  their  feelings  were  those 
which  fell  to  their  lot  in  carrying  out  an  eviction,  Avhere,  as  in 
the  case  of  these  "clearances,"  the  houses  had  to  be  levelled. 
The  anger  of  the  elements  affords  no  warrant  for  respite  or 
reprieve.  In  hail  or  thunder,  rain  or  snow,  out  the  inmate 
must  go.  The  bedridden  grandsire,  the  infant  in  the  cradk, 
the  sick,  the  aged,  and  the  dying,  must  alike  be  thrust  forth, 
though  other  roof  or  home  the  world  has  naught  for  them,  and 
the  stormy  sky  must  be  their  canopy  during  the  night  at  hand. 
This  is  no  fancy  picture.  It  is  but  a  brief  and  simple  outline 
sketch  of  realities  witnessed  all  over  Ireland  in  the  ten  yeare 
that  followed   the  famine.     I  recall  the  words  of  an  eye- 


''LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  167 

witness,  describing  one  of  these  scenes:  "Seven  hundred 
human  beings,"  says  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Nulty,  Catholic 
Bishop  of  Meath,  "were  driven  from  their  homes  on  this  one 
day.  There  was  not  a  shilling  of  rent  due  on  the  estate  at 
the  time,  except  by  one  man.  The  sheriffs'  assistants  em- 
ployed on  the  occasion  to  extinguish  the  hearths  and  demolish 
the  homes  of  those  honest,  industrious  men  worked  away 
with  a  will  at  their  awful  calling  until  evening  fell.  At 
length  an  incident  occurred  that  varied  the  monotony  of  the 
grim  and  ghastly  ruin  which  they  were  spreading  all  around. 
They  stopped  suddenly  and  recoiled,  panic-stricken  with  ter- 
ror, from  two  dwellings  which  they  were  directed  to  destroy 
with  the  rest.  They  had  just  learned  that  typhus  fever  held 
these  houses  in  its  grasp,  and  had  already  brought  death  to 
some  of  their  inmates.  They  therefore  supplicated  the  agent 
to  spare  these  houses  a  little  longer ;  but  he  was  inexorable, 
and  insisted  that  they  should  come  down.  He  ordered  a 
large  winnowing-sheet  to  be  secured  over  the  beds  in  which 
the  fever- victims  lay, — fortunately  they  happened  to  be  deliri- 
ous at  the  time, — and  then  directed  the  houses  to  be  unroofed 
cautiously  and  slowly.  I  administered  the  last  sacrament  of 
the  Church  to  four  of  these  fever-victims  next  day,  and,  save 
the  above-mentioned  winnowing-sheet,  there  was  not  then  a 
roof  nearer  to  me  than  the  canopy  of  heaven.  The  scene  of 
that  eviction-day  I  must  remember  all  my  life  long.  The 
wailing  of  women,  the  screams,  the  terror,  the  consternation 
of  children,  the  speechless  agony  of  men,  wrung  tears  of 
grief  from  all  who  saw  them.  I  saw  the  officers  and  men  of 
a  large  police  force  who  were  obliged  to  attend  on  the  occa- 
sion cry  like  children.  The  heavy  rains  that  usually  attend 
the  autumnal  equinoxes  descended  in  cold  copious  torrents 
throughout  the  night,  and  at  once  revealed  to  the  houseless 
sufferers  the  awful  realities  of  their  condition.  I  visited 
them  next  morning,  and  rode  from  place  to  place  administer- 


168  NEW  IRELAND. 

ing  to  them  all  the  comfort  and  consolation  I  could.  The 
landed  proprietors  in  a  circle  all  round,  and  for  many  miles 
in  every  direction,  warned  their  tenantry  against  admitting 
them  to  even  a  single  night's  shelter.  Many  of  these  poor 
people  were  unable  to  emigrate.  After  battling  in  vain  with 
privation  and  pestilence,  they  at  last  graduated  from  the  work- 
house to  the  tomb,  and  in  little  more  than  three  years  nearly 
a  fourth  of  them  lay  quietly  in  their  graves." 

To  such  an  extent  was  this  demolition  of  houses  carried,* 
that  a  certain  kind  of  skill  was  acquired  in  the  work ;  and 
gangs  of  men  accustomed  so  to  wield  pick  and  crowbar 
became  a  special  feature  for  the  time  in  the  labor  market. 
After  a  while  the  whole  posse — sheriif,  sub-sheriff,  agent, 
bailiffs,  and  attendant  policemen — came  to  be  designated  the 
"  Crowbar  Brigade,"  a  name  of  evil  memory,  at  mention  of 
which  to  this  day  many  a  peasant's  heart  will  chill  in  Ireland. 

Soon,  indeed,  hand-labor  became  too  slow  in  the  work  of 
house-levelling,  and  accordingly  scientific  improvement  and 
mechanical  ingenuity  were  called  in.  To  Mr,  Scully,  a  Cath- 
olic landlord  in  Tipperary,  belongs  the  credit  of  inventing  a 
machine  for  the  cheaper  and  more  expeditious  unroofing  and 
demolishing  of  tenants'  homes.  I  never  saAV  it  myself,  but 
friends  who  watched  the  invention  in  operation  described  it 
to  me.  It  consisted  of  massive  iron  levers,  hooks,  and  chains, 
to  which  horses  were  yoked.  By  deftly  fixing  the  hooks  and 
levers  at  the  proper  points  of  the  rafters,  at  one  crack  of  the 
whip  and  pull  of  the  horses  the  roof  was  brought  away.  By 
some  similarly  skilful  gripping  of  coigne-stones,  the  house- 
walls  were  torn  to  pieces.  It  was  found  that  two  of  these 
machines  enabled  a  sheriff  to  evict  ten  times  as  many  peasant 

*  On  the  22d  of  March,  1848,  Mr.  Poulett  Scrope,  M.P.,  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  called  attention  to  the  grossly  illegal  way  in  which 
this  wholesale  levelling  of  tenants'  houses  was  being  carried  out  in  Ire- 
land,— the  evictions  being,  he  stated,  "  mostly  at  nightfall." 


"LOCHABER  NO   MORE!"  IQQ 

families  in  a  day  as  could  be  got  through  by  a  crowbar  bri- 
gade of  fifty  men.  Mr.  Scully  took  no  special  advantage  of 
his  invention.  He  neither  registered  it  nor  patented  it,  but 
gave  it  freely  for  the  general  good  of  his  fellow-landlords.  I 
am  told  that  not  a  dozen  years  ago  it  was  seen  in  full  swing 
in  a  southern  county. 

But  even  in  ruin  and  desolation,  "  home" — the  home  that 
was — seemed  to  have  a  fascination  for.  the  evicted  people. 
They  lingered  long  about  the  spot,  until  driven  away  by 
force,  or  compelled  by  sheer  starvation  to  wander  oif  into  the 
"wide,  wide  world."  They  threw  up  rude  tents  or  "  sheel- 
ings"  by  the  roadside, — branches  of  trees  or  bits  of  plank 
snatched  from  the  d6bris  of  the  levelled  houses  being  laid 
against  the  hedge  or  fence,  and  covered  with  pieces  of  old 
sheets  or  with  fern-leaves  and  grass  sods.  In  such  poor  shel- 
ter the  children  and  the  women  crouched ;  the  men  slept 
under  the  sky.  A  friend  told  me  that  driving  through  Clare 
County  in  '49  he  passed  several  encampments  of  evicted  ten- 
ants thus  established  on  the  roadside.  He  said  there  must 
have  been  hundreds  of  men,  women,  and  children  in  all,  and 
that  they  seemed  to  iiave  been  in  these  huts  for  some  time. 
In  the  county  Mayo  these  wayside  camps  were  nearly  as 
numerous  as  in  Clare ;  but  in  the  former  county,  in  a  few 
instances  at  least,  neighboring  properties  eventually  aiforded 
a  foothold  to  the  poor  outcasts  and  saved  them  from  the 
workhouse.  It  is  only  just  to  mention  that  harsh  and  heart- 
less as  the  fact  mentioned  by  Dr.  Nulty  must  sound  (the 
mandate  of  the  surrounding  landlords  forbidding  their  ten- 
ants to  house  or  shelter  the  evicted  ones),  it  had,  if  not  in 
that  particular  case,  in  others,  this  explanation  behind  it, — 
viz.,  that  where  holdings  were  already  small  enough  there 
was  no  room  for  subdividing ;  and  no  landlord  wished  to 
have  the  ruined  and  pauperized  population  of  other  townlands 
fastened  as  a  possible  poor-law  burden  on  his  own. 

15 


170  i\'i:ir  IRELAND. 

The  instances  were  not  numerous  in  which  any  such  asylum 
was  allowed,  and  the  vast  multitude — for  such  they  were  in 
tiie  aggregate — gradually  separated  into  two  classes.  All  who 
were  able  to  emigrate — that  is  to  say,  all  who  either  possessed, 
or  were  able  to  borrow  or  beg,  the  necessary  means — found 
their  way  to  Australia,  America,  or  Great  Britain.  Those 
who  could  not  command  even  the  few  pounds  that  the  passage 
to  England  would  cost,  made  for  the  nearest  town,  where  for 
a  while  they  eked  out  a  miserable  existence  as  day-laborers, 
soon  sunk  to  mendicancy,  and  eventually  disappeared  into 
the  workhouse,  never  to  lift  their  heads  or  own  a  home  again. 
The  departure  of  an  emigrant  cavalcade  was  a  saddening 
sight.  English  travellers  on  Irish  railways  have  sometimes 
been  startled  as  the  train  entered  a  provincial  station  to  hear 
a  loud  wail  burst  from  a  dense  throng  on  the  platform.  While 
the  porters  witli  desperate  haste  are  trundling  into  the  luggage- 
van  numerous  painted  deal  boxes,  a  wild  scene  of  leave-taking 
is  proceeding.  It  is  an  emigrant  farewell.  The  emigrants, 
M'ceping  bitterly,  kiss,  over  and  over,  every  neighbor  and 
friend,  man,  woman,  and  child,  who  has  come  to  see  them  for 
the  la.st  time.  But  the  keen  pang  is  where  some  memlier  of 
the  family  is  departing,  leaving  the  rest  to  be  sent  for  by  him 
or  her  out  of  the  first  earnings  in  exile.  The  husband  goes, 
trusting;  the  wife  and  little  ones  to  some  relative  or  friend  till 
he  can  pay  their  passage  out  from  the  other  side.  Or  it  is  a 
son  or  daughter  who  parts  from  the  old  father  and  mother, 
■and  tells  them  they  shall  not  long  be  left  behind.  A  deaf- 
ening wail  resounds  as  the  station-bell  gives  the  signal  of 
starting.  I  have  seen  gray-haired  peasants  so  clutch  and 
cling  to  the  departing  child  at  this  last  moment  that  only  the 
utmost  force  of  three  or  four  friends  could  tear  them  asunder. 
The  porters  have  to  use  some  violence  l)efore  the  train  moves 
off,  the  crowd  so  presses  against  door  and  window.  When  at 
length  it  moves  away,  amidst  a  scene  of  passionate  grief,  hun- 


''LOOHABER  NO   MORE  r  171 

dreds  run  along  the  fields  beside  the  line  to  catch  yet  another 
glimpse  of  the  friends  they  shall  see  no  more.* 

Besides  or  between  the  landlords  who  at  every  sacrifice 
sustained  and  retained  their  tenantry,  and  those  who,  by 
choice  or  necessity,  abandoned  them  to  their  fate  or  flung 
them  on  the  world,  there  was  a  third  class,  who  adopted  a 
middle  course.  They  did  not  help  the  tenantry  to  weather 
the  storm  and  live  on  in  the  old  places,  but  they  assisted 
them  in  going  away, — gave  them  enough  money  to  pay  the 
passage-fare  to  the  American  or  English  shore.  The  charac- 
ter and  merits  of  this  transaction  were  very  mixed.  In  some 
cases  it  was  generous  conduct ;  in  others  it  was  a  hard  bar- 
gain, struck  in  the  hour  of  the  tenant's  helplessness.  Which 
feeling  preponderated  ?  AVhether  the  landlord  blessed  his 
good  fortune  when,  for  so  small  a  price,  he  got  rid  of  ruined 
tenants  and  probable  poor-rate  burden  on  his  estate,  and  had 
free  possession  of  cleared  farms  besides,  or  whether  he  was  a 
man  who  honestly  and  sincerely  felt  that  he  was  doing  the 
best  for  them  and  for  himself, — that  they  could  never  pull 
through  at  home,  and  might  do  well  in  Australia  or  America, 
— is  a  question  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  determine  to 
my  own  satisfaction.  Some  landlords,  no  doubt,  were  swayed 
by  one  class  of  consideration,  some  by  the  other.  But  with 
every  desire  to  take  the  brightest  view  of  this  ''assisted  emi- 
gration" proceeding,  and  to  presume  the  best  as  to  motives,  I 

*At  Cahirmore,  some  six  miles  west  of  Castletown  Bearhaven,  one 
day  in  June,  1847,  I  was  walking  along  the  fields  that  reach  the  cliff  on 
the  Atlantic  shore,  when  I  saw,  running  along  the  path  that  skirts  the 
edge,  a  young  peasant  sobhing,  and  waving  his  cap  to  a  ship  in  full  sail 
a  mile  off  the  land.  For  a  while  I  was  utterly  at  loss  to  understand 
what  it  meant ;  but  on  inquiry  I  found  this  was  an  emigrant  ship  that 
had  just  sailed  from  Castletown,  and  his  sister  was  on  board.  The 
breeze  was  light,  and  the  vessel  made  little  way  ;  and  the  poor  fellow 
had  run  along  the  shore  for  miles  to  wave  a  farewell,  on  chance  that 
his  sister  might  be  gazing  towards  home! 


172  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

could  see  that  hardly  any  of  these  landlords  enabled  the  pau- 
perized fugitives  to  do  more  than  reach  the  foreign  shore. 
Not  one  of  them  seemed  to  consider  for  a  moment  how  the 
English  people  would  like  to  have  tens  of  thousands  of  rude, 
unsophisticated,  unskilled,  unlettered  Irish  peasants  flung 
penniless  on  the  quays  of  Liverpool  or  the  docksides  of 
London.  Not  one  of  them  seemed  to  care 'what  might  be 
the  result  if  the  hundreds  of  thousands  who  streamed  across 
the  Atlantic  should  fail  to  find  employment  the  day  they 
landed  at  Boston  or  New  York.  Hundreds  of  these  Irish 
emigrants  crossed  the  Atlantic  with  barelv  the  tattered  clothes 
on  their  back,  and  without  a  shilling  to  purchase  even  one 
day's  food  on  landing.  I  know  of  my  own  knowledge  that 
several  borrowed  the  seven  shillings  and  sixpence  that  took 
them  as  deck-passengers  across  the  Channel  to  England, 
trusting  to  the  hazard  of  getting  something  to  do  the  day, 
nay,  the  iiour,  they  landed  at  Bristol,  London,  or  Liverpool, 
if  they  were  not  to  go  without  bed  or  food  their  first  night 
on  English  soil. 

"  Thanks  be  to  God,  they  have  fired  in  the  air !"  says  the 
Cork  waiter  to  the  English  visitor  in  one  of  Lever's  stories. 
Two  Irish  gentlemen  having  quarrelled  in  the  hotel  coffee- 
room,  a  duel  with  pistols  was  arranged  to  come  off  on  the 
spot  there  and  then.  To  the  delight  of  their  friends,  how- 
ever, and  of  the  assembled  waiters,  napkin  on  arm,  they 
"fired  in  the  air,"  that  is,  through  the  ceiling,  and  nearly 
shot  the  Englishman  in  "No.  10"  overhead.  Very  like  this 
"firing:  in  the  air"  was  the  conduct  of  the  Irish  landlords 
who  sent  off  their  pauperized  tenantry  and  cottiers  to  Eng- 
land and  America.  "Thanks  be  to  God,  they  are  gone!" 
was,  no  doubt,  the  happy  reflection  of  many  a  benevolent 
landlord  at  that  time.  But  gone  whither,  and  to  what  fate? 
Gone  from  possibly  burdening  or  inconveniencing  him;  but 
what  of  the  possible  burden  and  inconvenience  to  the  social 


''LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  173 

systems  into  which  this  mass  of  strange  material  was  thus 
flung? 

Often  as  I  stood  and  watched  these  departing  groups  I 
tried  to  think  w'hat  it  might  be  that  they  could  do  in  "  the 
land  they  were  going  to."  What  were  they  fitted  for?  Many 
of  them  had  never  seen  a  town  of  ten  thousand  inhabitants ; 
and  in  a  large  city,  even  in  their  own  country,  they  would  be 
helpless  and  bewildered  as  a  flock  of  sheep  on  a  busy  high- 
way. What  was  before  them  in  the  midst  of  London  or  New 
York  ?  AVhat  impressions  would  they  create  in  the  minds 
of  a  strange  city  people?  What  species  of  skill,  what  branch 
of  industry,  did  they  bring  with  them,  to  command  employ- 
ment and  insure  a  welcome?  Few  of  them  could  read;  some 
of  them,  accustomed  to  speak  the  native  Gaelic,  knew  little 
of  the  English  tongue.  Their  rustic  manners  would  expose 
them  to  derision,  their  want  of  education  to  contempt,  on  the 
part  of  those  who  would  not  know,  or  pause  to  consider,  that 
in  the  hapless  land  they  left  the  schoolmaster  had  been  pro- 
scribed by  law  for  two  liundred  years.  Wofully  were  they 
handicapped.  Nearly  everything  was  against  them.  Their 
past  ways  of  life,  so  far  from  training  them  in  aught  for 
these  new  circumstances,  in  nearly  every  way  unfitted  them 
for  the  change. 

I  speak  in  all  this  of  the  peasant  or  cottier  emigrants. 
Mingling  in  the  vast  throng  went  thousands,  no  doubt,  who, 
happily  for  them  as  it  afterwards  proved,  possessed  educa- 
tion, skill,  and  occasionally  moderate  means  for  a  start  in  life 
on  the  other  side, — members  of  respectable  and  once  pros- 
perous families  that  had  been  ruined  in  the  famine-time. 
Nay,  there  sailed  in  the  steerage  of  the  emigrant-ships  many 
a  fair  young  girl,  going  to  face  a  servant's  lot  in  a  foreign 
land,  who  at  home  had  once  had  servants  to  attend  her  every 
want ;  and  many  a  fine  young  fellow  ready  to  engage  as 
groom,  who  learned  that  business,  so  to  speak,  as  a  gentleman's 

15* 


174  ^'^"'  IRELAND. 

son  in  the  hunting-field.  In  the  cities  and  towns  of  Great 
Britain  and  America  there  are  to-day  hundreds  of  Irishmen, 
some  having  risen  to  position  and  fortune,  others  still  toiling 
on  in  some  humble  sphere,  who  landed  on  the  new  shore 
friendless  and  forlorn  from  the  wreck  of  happy  and  afi&uent 
homes. 

But  as  to  the  vast  bulk  of  uncultured  peasants,  victims  of 
this  wholesale  expulsion,  their  fate  was  and  could  but  be  de- 
plorable. Landing  in  such  masses,  everything  around  them 
so  strange,  so  new,  and  sometimes  so  hostile,  they  inevitably 
herded  together,  making  a  distinct  colony  or  "  quarter"  in 
the  city  where  they  settled.  Destitute  as  they  were,  their 
necessities  drove  them  to  the  lowest  and  most  squalid  lanes 
and  alleys  of  the  big  towns.  At  home  in  their  native  valleys 
poverty  was  free  from  horrors  that  mingled  with  it  here, 
namely,  contact  with  debasing  city  crime.  The  children  of 
these  wretched  emigrants  grew  up  amidst  terrible  contamina- 
tions. The  police-court  records  soon  began  to  show  an  array 
of  Celtic  patronymics.  "  The  low  Irish"  grew  to  be  a  phrase 
of  scorn  in  the  community  around  them ;  and  they,  repaying 
scorn  with  hatred,  became,  as  it  were,  the  Arabs  of  the  place, 
"  their  hand  against  every  man's  hand,  and  every  man's  hand 
against  them." 

This  dismal  picture,  painfully  true  of  many  a  case  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  ago,  is  now  happily  rare.  A  brighter  and 
better  state  of  things  is  rapidly  making  its  appearance.  But, 
for  my  own  part,  I  can  never  forget  the  mournful  impressions 
made  upon  me  more  than  twenty  years  ago  when  investi- 
gating the  condition  of  the  laboring  Irish  in  Staifordshire  and 
in  Lancashire,  in  Boston  and  in  New  York.  I  knew  that 
these  poor  countrymen  of  mine  were  of  better  and  nobler 
material  than  the  strangers  around  them  imagined ;  that  they 
were  the  victims  of  circumstances.  I  saw  and  I  deplored 
their  vices  and  their  failings;   saw  that  their  native  Irish 


"LOCHABER  NO   MORE!"  175 

virtues,  their  simple,  kindly,  generous  nature,  had  almost 
totally  disappeared  in  the  cruel  transplantation. 

The  Irish  exodus  had  one  awful  concomitant,  which  in  the 
Irish  memory  of  that  time  fills  nearly  as  large  a  space  as  the 
famine  itself.  The  people,  flying  from  fever-tainted  hovel 
and  workhouse,  carried  the  plague  with  them  on  board. 
Each  vessel  became  a  floating  charnel-house.  Day  by  day 
the  American  public  was  thrilled  by  the  ghastly  tale  of  ships 
arriving  oiF  the  harbors  reeking  with  typhus  and  cholera,  the 
track  they  had  followed  across  the  ocean  strewn  with  the 
corpses  flung  overboard  on  the  way.  Speaking  in  the  House 
of  Commons  on  the  11th  of  February,  1848,  Mr.  Labouchere 
referred  to  one  year's  havoc  on  board  the  ships  sailing  to 
Canada  and  New  Brunswick  alone  in  the  following  words : 

"  Out  of  106,000  emigrants  who  during  the  last  twelve 
months  crossed  the  Atlantic  for  Canada  and  New  Bruns- 
wick, 6100  perished  on  the  voyage,  4100  on  their  arriv'al, 
5200  in  the  hospitals,  and  1900  in  the  towns  to  which  they 
repaired.  The  total  mortality  was  no  less  than  17  per  cent, 
of  the  total  number  emigrating  to  those  places;  the  number 
of  deaths,  being  17,300." 

In  all  the  great  ports  of  America  and  Canada  huge  quar- 
antine hospitals  had  to  be  hastily  erected.  Into  these  every 
day  newly-arriving  plague-ships  poured  what  survived  of 
their  human  freight,  for  whom  room  was  as  rapidly  made  in 
those  wards  by  the  havoc  of  death.  Whole  families  disap- 
peared between  land  and  land,  as  sailors  say.  Frequently 
the  adults  were  swept  away,  the  children  alone  surviving.  It 
was  impossible  in  every  case  to  ascertain  the  names  of  the 
sufferers,  and  often  all  clue  to  identification  was  lost.  The 
public  authorities,  or  the  nobly  humane  organizations  that 
had  established  those  lazar-houses,  found  themselves  to- 
wards the  close  of  their  labors  in  charge  of  hundreds  of 
orphan  children,  of  whom  name 'and  parentage  alike  were 


176  NEW  IRELAND. 

now  impossible  to  be  traced.  About  eight  years  ago  I  was 
waited  upon  in  Dublin  by  one  of  these  M'aifs,  now  a  man  of 
considerable  wealth  and  honorable  position.  He  had  come 
across  the  Atlantic  in  pursuit  of  a  purpose  to  which  he  is 
devoting  years  of  his  life, — an  endeavor  to  obtain  some  clue 
to  his  family,  who  perished  in  one  of  the  great  shore  hospi- 
tals in  1849.  Piously  he  treasures  a  few  pieces  of  a  red- 
painted  emigrant-box,  which  he  believes  belonged  to  his 
father.  Eagerly  he  travels  from  place  to  place  in  Clare 
and  Kerry  and  Galway,  to  see  if  he  may  dig  from  the  tomb 
of  that  terrible  past  the  secret  lost  to  hiui,  I  fear,  forever ! 

"  From  Grosse  Island,  the  great  charnel-house  of  victimized 
humanity"  (says  the  Official  Report  of  the  Montreal  Emigrant 
Society  for  1847),  "up  to  Port  Sarnia,  and  all  along  the  bor- 
ders of  our  magnificent  river;  upon  the  shores  of  Lakes  On- 
tario and  Erie, — wherever  the  tide  of  emigration  has  extended, 
are  to  be  found  the  final  resting-places  of  the  sons  and  daugh- 
ters of  Erin  ;  one  unbroken  chain  of  graves,  where  repose 
fathers  and  mothers,  sisters  and  brothers,  in  one  commingled 
heap,  without  a  tear  bedewing  the  soil  or  a  stone  marking 
the  spot.  Twenty  thousand  and  upwards  have  thus  gone 
down  to  their  graves." 

I  do  not  know  that  the  history  of  our  time  has  a  parallel 
for  this  Irish  exodus.  The  Germans,  to  be  sure,  have  emi- 
grated in  vast  numbers,  and,  like  the  Irish,  seem  to  form 
distinct  communities  where  they  settle.  But  many  circum- 
stances distinguish  the  Irish  case  from  any  that  can  be  re- 
called. Other  emigrations  were,  more  or  less,  the  gradual 
and  steady  overflow  of  a  population  cheerfully  willing  to  go. 
This  was  the  forcible  expulsion  or  panic  rush  of  a  stricken 
people,  and  was  attended  by  frightful  scenes  of  suffering  and 
death.  Irishmen,  moreover,  feel  that  their  country  has  not 
had  a  chance  of  fair  play,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  in  a  state 
of  things  which  sent  out  into  the  world  the  one  section  of  the 


"LOCHABER  NO  MORE!"  177 

population  least  qualified  to  encounter  it,  and  the  one  section 
least  likely  to  impress  strangers  with  favorable  and  high 
ideas  of  Ireland  and  the  Irish.  At  this  present  hour  there 
are  English  men  and  women  who  think  all  Irishmen  wear 
"  caubeens,"  with  pipes  stuck  in  the  rim,  and  carrying  a 
reaping-hook  under  their  flannel  vest.  If  only  the  corre- 
sponding class  of  the  English  nation,  when  it  had  a  peasant 
class,  were  seen  by  foreign  peoples,  as  rude  a  conception  might 
be  formed  of  the  typical  Englishman. 

Yet  the  first  terrible  ordeal  over,  the  Irish  emigration  is 
beginning  to  bear  some  good  and  useful  fruit.  Disadvanta- 
geous as  was  their  start  in  the  race,  the  expatriated  Celts  are 
decidedly  pulling  up,  and  are  striding  well  to  the  front  in 
many  a  land.  They  are  acquiring  skill,  are  turning  to  good 
account  their  naturally  quick  intelligence.  In  some  places, 
unfortunately,  the  vices  engendered  of  ignorance  and  poverty 
still  drag  them  down  and  keep  them  low ;  but  in  most  in- 
stances they  have  conquered  the  respect  and  secured  the 
kindly  regard  of  their  employers,  neighbors,  and  fellow- 
workmen.  The  sad  circumstances  under  which  the  great 
body  of  them  crossed  the  seas  have  indelibly  stamped  one 
remarkable  characteristic  on  the  Irish  emigrants :  they  are  a 
distinct  people.  Like  the  children  of  Israel,  "  by  the  waters 
of  Babylon  they  sit  down  and  weep  when  they  remember 
Sion."  In  joy  or  sorrow,  in  adversity  or  prosperity,  they 
always  have  a  corner  in  their  hearts  for  Ireland,  a  secretly- 
treasured  memory  of  that  railway  parting-scene,  or  of  the 
last  fond  look  they  turned  on  the  native  valley,  the  ruined 
cottage,  the  lonely  hawthorn-tree.  Often  in  their  dreams 
they  clasp  again  the  hands  they  wrung  that  day,  ere  they  set 
forth  for  an  eternal  exile,  to  behold  "  Lochaber  no  more." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE    ENCUMBERED   ESTATES    ACT. 

"  Kingston,  Kingston,  you  black-wliiskered,  good-natured 
fellow,  I  am  happy  to  see  yon  in  this  friendly  country."  Such 
was  the  characteristic  salutation  that  broke  from  George  IV. 
as  he  stepped  on  the  Irish  shore  at  Howth  on  the  12th  of 
August,  1821,  and  recognized  among  the  crowd  assembled 
to  greet  him  the  frank,  genial,  and  warm-hearted  Earl  of 
Kingston. 

The  king  little  thought  that  day  that  the  "black-whiskered, 
good-natured"  nobleman  who  stood  before  him — splendid 
type  of  an  Irish  country  gentleman,  brave,  generous,  hospi- 
table, kindly  to  his  tenantry,  beloved  by  his  dependants — was 
fated  to  be  the  last  of  his  name  and  race  who  would  tread  in 
pride  the  ancestral  halls  of  Mitchclstown.  Yet  so  it  was  to 
be.  His  next  heir  Avas  to  see  the  ruin  of  that  noble  house, 
the  wreck  of  that  princely  fortune,  once  the  boast  of  Southern 
Ireland. 

The  traveller  from  Cork  to  Dublin,  as  he  nears  the  Lim- 
erick Junction,  sees  on  his  right  hand,  rising  boldly  from  a 
fertile  plain,  a  chain  of  lofty  mountains.  Even.when  viewed 
from  the  railway,  one  can  notice  that  tliey  are  pierced  by 
many  a  deep  gorge  and  picturesque  glen.  These  are  the 
Galtees,  one  of  the  noblest  mountain-groups  in  Ireland, — 
perhaps  in  Europe. 

The  district  has  an  eventful  history.     Its  deep  fastnesses, 

its  trackless  hills,  its  winding  defiles,  made  it  the  refuge  of 

the  native  Irish  when  vanquished  on  the  plains.    "A  natural 

fortress  of  liberty,"  one  of  our  historians  calls  it.     The  Des- 

178 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  179 

mond  Geraldines — ipsis  Hibernicis  Hiberniores — were  its  lords 
throughout  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  The  crum- 
bling walls  of  their  numerous  castle  strongholds  still  form 
notable  features  in  the  landscape  for  miles  around.  Early 
in  the  seventeenth  century  the  extensive  possessions  of  this 
branch  of  the  Fitzgeralds  passed  to  the  Fentons  of  Mitchels- 
town,  one  of  whom  married  the  daughter  of  "  The  White 
Knight/'  Fitzgerald  of  Clongibbon.  Very  little  later  on  the 
sole  heiress  of  the  Fentons  married  John  King,  whose  grand- 
father, Sir  John  King,  had  obtained  from  Charles  II.  con- 
siderable estates  in  the  county  Roscommon.  He  was  the 
ancestor  of  the  "  black-whiskered,  good-natured"  Lord  King- 
ston, and  of  Captain  E.  R.  King  Harman,  M.P.  for  Sligo 
(1877),  to  whom  these  Roscommon  estates  have  descended. 

South  and  west  of  the  Galtees  rise  the  mountains  of 
Knockmeldoun.  The  valley  between  is  one  of  the  loveliest 
in  all  Munster.  At  its  head  stands  Mitchelstown  Castle. 
From  my  boyhood  I  had  heard  of  the  magnificence  of  this 
mountain-palace  of  the  Kingston  family,  and  of  the  natural 
beauties  surrounding.  But  when  I  visited  the  place  in  1860 
the  events  I  am  about  to  narrate  had  befallen,  and  their 
princely  home  knew  the  Kingstons  no  more.  A  writer  in 
the  Daily  News,  nearly  ten  years  previously,  had  drawn  a 
picture  of  the  scene  full  of  feeling  and  fidelity,  some  portion 
of  which  I  shall  reproduce  in  preference  to  any  sketch  of 
my  own.  "  From  afar  off,"  he  says,  "  as  soon  as  the  traveller 
enters  the  beautiful  valley  which  bears  its  name,  the  towers 
and  battlements  of  Mitchelstown  are  distinguished,  rising 
above  the  surrounding  woods,  and  affording  an  idea  of  mag- 
nificence quite  uncommon  to  this  country.  With  a  liberality 
very  uncommon  in  Great  Britain,  the  gates  are  at  all  hours 
open  to  the  public.  It  is  said  that  nothing  delighted  Lord 
Kingston  so  much  as  to  see  people  enjoying  themselves  in  his 
demesne.     In  England  the  passage  of  a  vehicle  through  a 


180  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

park  would  be  considered  by  most  proprietors  an  annoying 
and  unwelcome  intrusion.  At  Mitchelstown  Lord  Kingston 
would  scarcely  permit  a  carriage  to  enter  without  rushing 
out  to  greet  its  occupants  and  to  invite  them  to  make  a  survey 
of  his  castle  and  its  grounds. 

"  In  harmony  with  the  feelings  of  the  noble  owner,  the 
drive  from  the  lodge-gates  to  the  entrance-portal  of  the  castle 
is  a  short  and  pleasant  one.  Xo  long  and  chilling  avenue 
affords  the  visitor  time  for  preparation.  A  lawn  and  pleasure- 
ground  are  passed,  and  the  castle  stands  before  you  in  all  its 
princely  grandeur.  It  consists  of  a  pile  of  castellated  build- 
ings, extensive  and  elegantly  proportioned,  and  built  of  stone 
of  the  purest  white,  quarried  from  the  hills  on  the  estate. 
Nothing  can  be  more  simple  in  arrangement  than  the  interior 
of  this  castle.  A  noble  flight  of  steps  leads  from  the  entrance 
door  into  a  gallery  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length.  At 
the  other  end  of  this  gallery  a  corresponding  flight  of  marble 
stairs  leads  to  the  upper  chambers.  The  gallery  is  lighted 
by  ranizes  of  oriel  and  other  windows  to  the  north.  On  the 
south  are  fireplaces  of  Italian  marble,  with  stoves  of  knightly 
character  and  blazon,  designed  expressly  for  the  castle.  Be- 
tween these  fireplaces  are  doors,  which  open  into  the  suite  of 
rooms  which  form  the  saloons  of  reception.  Overhead  are 
two  ranges  of  bedchambers,  sixty  principal  and  twenty  in- 
ferior bedrooms.  On  an  emergency  as  many  as  a  hundred 
persons  have,  without  difficulty,  been  accommodated  with 
chambers  in  the  mansion.  Concealed  by  a  shrubbery,  to  the 
south  of  the  building,  are  the  exterior  offices.  The  stables 
of  the  Douglas,  made  famous  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  did  not 
boast  more  ample  accommodation.  Four-and-twenty  steeds 
may  here  be  kept  ready  for  war  or  chase.  The  gardens  of 
Mitchelstown  have  long  been  celebrated  ;  the  noble  earl  him- 
self took  especial  pleasure  in  them.  It  is  indeed  a  remark- 
able sight  to  see  the  long  range  of  graperies  thrown  open. 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  181 

As  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  festoons  of  grapes  are  pendent ;  some 
are  of  rare  sorts.  The  black  Hamburg  grape  is  brought  to  the 
utmost  perfection  here,  and  there  is  one  vine  which,  in  point 
of  size,  both  of  vine  and  fruit,  is  said  to  rival  the  famed  pro- 
duce of  the  vine  at  Hampton  Court.  There  is  also  a  lodge  ex- 
pressly devoted  for  the  reception  of  picnic- parties,  who  from 
time  immemorial  have  been  permitted  the  free  range  of  all  the 
grounds  and  gardens,  and  inspection  of  the  castle  upon  ap- 
plication at  the  door.  Many  a  family  fault  and  failing  may 
be  considered  amply  redeemed  by  this  liberal  attention  to  the 
stranger.  When  Englishmen  hear  of  noblemen's  seats  which 
there  is  a  difficulty  in  visiting,  they  may  remember  the  case 
of  Mitchelstown,  where  every  visitor,  of  whatever  station, 
was  provided  for,  welcomed,  and  even  invited  to  return." 

One  day,  however,  a  heavy  blow  fell  on  Mitchelstown 
Castle  and  its  generous-hearted  lord.  I  shall  let  the  same 
kindly  Englishman  tell  the  story,  although  he  was  misled,  as 
I  siiall  show,  in  one  or  two  particulars : 

"  The  present  proprietor  of  the  estate  was  distinguished  for 
his  hospitality.  It  would  have  been,  under  other  circum- 
stances, a  noble  trait  in  his  character.  Lord  Kingston  did 
that  which  the  Avealthier  noblemen  of  England  are  far  too 
slow  to  do.  He  invited  to  Mitchelstown,  without  distinc- 
tion of  rank  or  title,  all  who  could  derive  enjoyment  from 
it.  '  If  you  are  a  scholar,'  said  the  noble  lord,  'you  shall  be 
conducted  to  scenes  renowned  in  history ;  if  you  are  a  lover 
of  the  picturesque,  you  shall  have  a  room  commanding  a 
dozen  prospects;  if  you  area  sportsman,  the  horse  and  hound 
invite  you  to  follow  them  ;  or  there  are  hills  abounding  with 
grouse,  and  streams  alive  with  trout.  Bring  your  gun,  your 
rod,  your  pencil,  or  your  book,  you  shall  be  equally  welcome 
and  equally  gratified.     Come  and  visit  me  at  Mitchelstown.' 

"  It  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  these  hospitable  gatherings 
that  the  last  blow  was  struck  at  the  descendant  of  Clongibbon. 

16 


182  iV^£IF  IRELAND. 

A  cruel  blow  it  was,  and  deservedly  execrated  will  be  the 
man  who  struck  it.  It  was  a  Saturday  evening  ;  a  hundred 
guests  were  preparing  for  the  dinner-table  at  Mitchelstown, 
after  the  sports  and  enjoyments  of  the  day.  At  this  moment 
there  rode  up  to  the  door  an  unexpected  visitor.  He  was  an 
attorney  of  the  neighborhood,  to  whose  hands  Lord  Kingston 
had  confided  the  direction  of  some  of  his  aifairs.  A  debt  for 
the  costs  appertaining  to  these  proceedings  had  been  met  by 
a  bond,  upon  which  judgment  had  been  entered  up.  The 
bond  only  awaited  execution,  but  there  was  no  apprehension 
that  the  money  would  be  pressed  for.  When  the  attorney 
arrived,  he  was  welcomed  by  Lord  Kingston  with  his  usual 
hospitality.  He  accepted  an  invitation  to  remain  the  night, 
and  lie  partook  of  the  hospitality  of  the  castle  and  quaffed  its 
wine  to  the  health  and  happiness  of  his  host. 

"On  the  following  morning,  when  Lord  Kingston  and  his 
party  were  about  to  repair  to  the  adjacent  church,  the  attor- 
ney excused  himself  on  the  plea  of  indisposition.  During 
the  absence  of  the  guests  he  was  observed  admiring  the  gran- 
deur of  the  rooms.  He  examined  the  furniture,  the  books, 
the  plate  upon  the  sideboards,  ^he  chandeliers  pendent  from 
the  ceilings.  Early  in  the  day  he  took  his  departure.  Lord 
Kingston  little  augured  what  would  follow  it. 

"  A  day  or  two  after.  Lord  Kingston  was  visited  at 
Mitchelstown  by  a  gentleman  well  known  to  him,  who  re- 
quested the  favor  of  a  private  interview.  It  was  the  sheriff 
of  the  county.  He  came,  he  said,  on  a  most  unpleasant  duty. 
An  execution  had  been  issued  at  the  suit  of  the  attorney,  and 
he  had  received  notice  to  ])ut  it  in  immediate  force,  together 
with  particulars  of  furniture  and  other  articles  within  the 
castle  on  which  levy  could  be  made,  and  which  he  was  called 
upon  to  seize.  The  sheriff  assured  Lord  Kingston  the  execu- 
tion should  be  put  in  such  a  way  as  would  give  him  least 
annoyance.     The  officer,  he  said,  could  be  treated  as  a  ser- 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  183 

vant,  and  he  trusted  that  the  matter  would  be  so  arranged  that 
he  would  be  very  speedily  withdrawn. 

"  The  sheriif  then  withdrew  to  summon  the  officer,  whom, 
in  delicacy  to  Lord  Kingston,  he  had  left  without  the  bounds 
of  the  demesne.  AYhilst  he  was  absent,  Lord  Kingston 
hastily  called  some  of  his  friends  together  and  consulted  with 
them.  Some  of  the  least  judicious  recommended  him  to  close 
the  doors.  The  noble  lord  was  ill-advised  enouo^h  to  act  on 
this  suggestion.  The  castle-doors  were  barred,  and  the  earl 
and  such  of  the  party  as  remained  his  guests  determined  to 
stand  out  a  siege. 

"  The  sheriif  had  behaved  in  the  spirit  of  a  gentleman,  and 
even  of  a  friend.  It  was  now  his  duty  to  act  as  administra- 
tor of  the  law.  He  closely  invested  the  castle  and  its  grounds, 
directing  his  officers  to  obtain  possession  in  any  way  they 
could.  For  nearly  a  fortnight  the  siege  continued.  During 
that  time  several  councils  of  war  were  called  within  the  build- 
ing. At  length  the  more  moderate  prevailed :  they  advised 
Lord  Kingston  to  surrender  at  discretion.  No  succor  was  at 
hand,  and  the  present  proceedings,  they  suggested,  would  only 
increase  the  irritation  which  these  proceedings  had  ])roduced 
on  both  sides.  It  was  accordingly  determined  to  admit  the 
officers.  Late  on  the  evening  of  that  day  Lord  Kingston 
drove  away  for  the  last  time  from  the  home  of  his  ancestors, 
and  the  sheriff's  men  were  summoned  in  to  take  possession 
of  the  castle  and  its  property." 

This  story,  so  sympathetically  told,  was  sadly  true ;  but 
my  information  lays  the  date  of  its  occurrence  some  few  years 
anterior  to  the  time  here  indicated.  I  rather  think  the  seizure' 
thus  described  took  place  in  1845  or  1847,  at  the  instance  of 
a  INIr.  J.  W.  Sherlock,  solicitor,  of  Fermoy.  The  final  ex- 
ecution was  levied  in  1849,  at  the  instance  of  a  family  group 
of  whom  we  shall  hear  more  in  a  subsequent  chapter, — the 
Sadleir-Scully  family.     The  foreclosed   mortgage  on  Avhich' 


184  -^^'^  IRELAND. 

the  Kingston  estates  were  sold  out  in  1850  had  been  made 
to  Thomas  Joseph  Eyre,  William  Stourton,  James  Scully, 
and  James  Sadleir.  Mr.  Eyre  appointed  his  relative,  Mr. 
John  Sadleir,  afterwards  M.P.  for  Carlow,  receiver  over  the 
estates.  Mr.  Sadleir  organized  a  land  company  to  purchase 
the  property.  The  shares  in  this  company  later  on  passed 
mainly  into  the  hands  of  two  of  the  directors,  of  whom  ^Ir. 
Nathaniel  Buckley,  a  Lancashire  manufacturer,  was  one. 
Mr.  Buckley  bought  out,  or  otherwise  arranged  with,  his  col- 
league, and  became  lord  of  the  place,  appointing  as  his  agent 
Mr.  Patten  S.  Bridge,  who,  on  the  crash  of  the  Sadleir  bank 
in  1856,  was  manager  of  the  Thurles  branch.  Deplorable 
incidents  of  recent  occurrence  have  given  a  gloomy  notoriety, 
for  the  passing  moment,  to  this  same  Mitchelstown  estate, 
and  have  brought  into  distressing  prominence  the  names  of 
Mr.  Buckley  and  Mr.  Patten  S.  Bridge.* 

Towards  the  close  of  1847,  or  early  in  1848,  it  became 
noised  about  in  Ireland  that  the  Government  contemplated 
a  scheme  for  removing  the  debt-loaded  landlord  class  in 
Ireland.  The  necessity  for  some  such  step,  its  usefulness,  its 
national  importance,  none  could  deny,  and  none  more  freely 
admitted  than  the  Irish  proprietors  themselves.  Witiiout 
touching  on  the  broader  and  dee])er  question  of  the  abstract 
utility  of  facilitating  the  transfer  of  land  and  its  sale  in  small 
parcels,  there  were  in  Ireland  peculiar  reasons  why  such  a 
project  must  be  beneficial.  A  large  section  of  the  landlord 
class  were  little  better  than  nominal  proprietors.  A  moun- 
tain-load of  mortgages  or  a  net-work  of  settlements  rendered 
them  powerless  to  attempt  or  carry  out  any  of  the  numerous 


*  Twice  within  the  past  two  years  Mr.  Bridge  has  been  murderously 
waylaid.  On  the  last  occasion  a  regular  fusillade  was  exchanged  between 
his  armed  escort  of  police  and  the  assassins.  Mr.  Bridge  escaped,  but 
his  coachman  was  shot  dead. 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  185 

reforms  and  improvements  which  a  really  free  and  independ- 
ent owner  might  arrange  with  his  tenantry.  Many  an  Irish 
gentleman,  with  a  nominal  rent-roll  of  thousands  or  tens  of 
thousands  a  year,  possessed  in  reality  to  his  own  use  scarcely 
so  many  hundreds.  To  not  a  few  of  the  class  the  hollowness 
and  unreality  of  their  position  had  become  intolerable.  The 
lord  of  some  ancient  mansion  or  ivied  castle,  with  estates 
that  reached  in  miles  on  either  hand,  often  envied  the  humble 
merchant  of  five  hundred  pounds  a  year,  who  had  no  state 
to  maintain,  no  retinue  to  support,  no  false  position  in  society 
to  uphold.  With  men  so  circumstanced,  indulgence  to  their 
tenantry  was  almost  impoasible,  and  the  temptation  to  cupid- 
ity, to  rack-renting,  and  to  extortion  was  strong  and  ever 
pressing.  It  was  true  statesmanship  to  afford  a  cure  for  evils 
so  serious  and  so  complicated.  The  Irish  Encumbered  Es- 
tates Act,  regarded  in  this  sense,  was  one  of  the  greatest 
legislative  boons  ever  conferred  on  Ireland.  In  its  actual 
results,  good  and  evil,  hurt  and  service,  cause  for  satisfaction 
and  cause  for  regret,  are  considerably  mingled.  In  some 
very  important  particulars  the  expectations  and  designs  of 
its  promoters  have  been"  disappointed  and  contradicted.  But 
when  every  allowance  has  been  made,  there  still  is  to  be  said 
that  a  great  and  incalculable  gain  has  been  achieved,  though 
at  somewhat  of  painful  price. 

The  measure,  excellent  in  itself,  was  proposed  and  pre- 
sented to  Ireland  at  such  a  time  and  under  such  circum- 
stances as  to  give  it  a  decidedly  sinister  aspect.  To  no  man, 
to  no  class  of  men,  can  a  sentence  of  abolition  or  extinction 
be  welcome  at  any  time.  "  Life  is  sweet."  But  when  men 
feel  that  special  advantage  is  taken  of  a  special  mi.sfortune  in 
order  to  encompass  their  destruction,  for  no  matter  how  great 
a  public  good, — if  they  are  "struck  when  down," — they  regard 
the  proceeding  with  a  peculiar  bitterness.  Thus  felt  many  an 
Irish  landlord  the  proposal  of  the  Encumbered  Estates  Act. 

16* 


186  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

It  came  upon  him,  he  would  say,  when  he  needed  rather  in- 
dulgence, consideration,  and  aid.  It  caught  him  in  a  moment 
of  lielplessness  and  exhaustion.  Whatever  chance  he  might 
have  of  retrieving  his  position  at  any  other  time,  he  had  none 
now.  Landed  property  was  a  drug  in  the  market.  On 
many  estates  no  rents  had  been  paid  during  the  famine.  On 
some  the  poor-rates  had  readied  twenty  shillings  in  the  pound 
of  yearly  valuation.  To  challenge  Irish  landlords  at  such 
a  moment  with  the  stern  ultimatum  of  "  Pay  or  quit"  was 
naked  destruction.  To  visit  upon  them  at  the  close  of  the 
famine  the' penalty  for  inherited  indebtedness  and  embarrass- 
ment was,  in  many  cases,  sacrificing  the  innocent  for  the  sins 
of  their  forefathers, — sacrificing  them  under  circumstances 
of  peculiar  hardship  and  injustice.  In  fine,  the  Encumbered 
Estates  Act  ought  to  liave  been  passed  long  years  before, — 
in  some  period  of  tranquillity  and  comparative  plenty.  En- 
acted M  hen  it  was,  it  could  but  wear  an  aspect  of  harshness 
or  hostility,  could  accomplish  its  unquestionably  useful  aims 
only  at  the  cost  of  excessive  sacrifice  and  suffering. 

What  were  those  aims  ?  They  were  stated  in  one  way, 
had  one  meaning,  in  the  bill  brought  into  Parliament ;  tiiey 
were  stated  very  differently  in  the  leading  organs  of  English 
public  opinion.  On  the  face  of  the  Government  measure  one 
could  read  fairly  enough  a  proposal  to  enable  a  court  specially 
constituted  to  order  the  sale  of  estates  encumbered  by  indebt- 
edness, on  the  petition  so  praying  of  any  person  sufficiently 
interested  as  owner  or  creditor ;  all  statutes,  settlements,  deeds, 
or  covenants  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding ;  to  the  end  that 
debts  justly  due  might  be  paid  so  far  as  the  property  could 
answer  them  ;  that  a  proprietary  emancipated  from  the  inju- 
rious restraints  of  family  settlements  and  the  crushing  burdens 
of  family  debts  might  be  brought  to  the  aid  of  the  Irish  land 
system  ;  and  that  a  concise,  simple,  and  indefeasible  form  of 
title  might  be  substituted  for  the  voluminous,  confused,  and 


THE  ENCUMBERED   ESTATES  ACT.  187 

ponderous  legal  scrolls  in  which  title  to  landed  property  was 
hitherto  set  forth.  So  manifestly  useful  were  such  proposals, 
so  valuable  to  any  country  a  tribunal  with  such  powers,  that 
one  is  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  (as  some  of  the  Irish  peers 
and  members  of  Parliament  asked  at  the  time)  the  bill  was 
not  applied  to  England  and  Scotland,  and  was  to  extend  to 
Ireland  alone.  The  comments  and  glossary  of  some  English 
newspapers  seemed  to  supply  an  answer  to  this  very  natural 
interrogatory,  but  it  was  one  not  calculated  to  recommend  the 
bill  in  Ireland.  We  were  told  to  read  between  the  lines  of 
the  Government  measure  a  plan  for  the  more  sure  effectuation 
of  the  new  plantation.  Not  alone  were  the  Irish  tenantry  to 
be  replaced  by  English  and  lowland-Scotch  "colonists,"  but 
the  Irish  landlords  also  were  to  be  cleared  off,  an  English 
proprietary  being  established  in  their  stead.  "  English  capi- 
tal" was  at  long  last  to  flow  into  Ireland  in  the  purchase  of 
these  estates.  The  dream  of  Elizabeth  and  James  and  Charles 
was  to  be  accomplished  in  the  reign  of  Victoria.  The  island 
was  to  be  peopled  by  a  new  race, — was  to  be  anglicized  '•  from 
the  centre  to  the  sea."  In  truth,  between  evictions  and  emi- 
gration on  the  one  liand,  and  the  working  of  the  Encumbered 
Estates  Court  on  the  other,  so  it  seemed  that  it  would  be. 
"  In  a  few  years  more,"  said  the  London  Times,  "  a  Celtic 
Irishman  will  be  as  rare  in  Connemara  as  is  the  Red  Indian 
on  the  shores  of  Manhattan." 

If  the  bullock  being  led  to  the  abattoir  could  understand 
and  be  consoled  by  remarks  upon  the  excellent  sirloin  and 
juicy  steak  which  he  was  sure  to  furnish,  so  ought  the  Irish 
landlords  and  tenants  to  have  taken  kindly  the  able  speeches 
and  learned  leading  articles  which  declared  they  were  being 
slaughtered  for  the  public  good.  But  they  had  not  a  philoso- 
phy equal  to  this  lofty  view  of  things,  and  they  called  it  hard 
names. 

In  the  early  days  of  February,  1848,  the  Irish  Encumbered 


188  JV£JF  IRELAND. 

Estates  Bill  was  introduced  into  the  House  of  Lords.  On  the 
24th  of  February  it  Mas  read  a  second  time.  Through  the 
months  of  March  and  April  it  lay  2:)erdii,  the  Gov^ernraent 
and  the  country  apparently  being  engrossed  with  the  more 
exciting  and  exigent  topics  of  the  period.  On  the  8th  of 
May,  however,  the  Lords  suddenly  resumed  consideration  of 
the  bill,  and,  making  up  for  lost  time,  passed  it  through  all 
remaining  stages  in  two  or  three  days !  A  week  subsequently 
it  was  introduced  in  the  Commons,  and  on  the  18th  of  May 
was  read  a  second  time  with  less  of  debate  than  would  now 
be  given  to  a  parish  gas-bill.  Not  an  Irish  member  seems  to 
have  opened  his  lips  at  this  stage  on  a  measure  which  was  de- 
signed and  calculated  to  effect  the  most  momentous  changes  in 
Ireland!  On  the  4th  of  July  Sir  Lucius  O'Brien,  afterwards 
Lord  Inchiquin,  then  member  for  Clare,  raised  a  rather  pro- 
tracted debate  by  an  amendment  proposing  to  extend  the  bill 
to  England, — a  suggestion  strongly  opposed  and  easily  de- 
feated by  the  Government.  On  the  ]3th  of  July  the  bill 
went  through  committee.  On  the  24th  of  July,  1848,  it 
passed  the  third  reading,  and  in  a  few  days  more  was  law. 

On  the  21st  of  October,  1849,  the  first  ''Petition  for 
Sale"  was  filed  under  the  new  act;  and  there  soon  set  in  a 
state  of  things  which  most  people  foresaw, — a  rush  of  cred- 
itors to  the  court,  an  inevitable  sacrifice  of  property.  As  in 
a  commercial  ]ianic,  men  who  at  first  had  never  dreamed  of 
selling,  beholding  the  hourly  increasing  depreciation,  rushed 
wildly  in  and  accelerated  the  downward  tendency  of  prices. 
In  this  storm  many  a  noble  fortune  was  wrecked,  many  an 
ancient  and  honored  family  went  down.  Estates  that  would 
have  been  well  able  to  pay  twice  the  encumbrances  laid  upon 
them,  if  property  was  at  all  near  its  ordinary  level  of  value, 
now  failed  to  realize  enough  to  meet  the  mortgages,  and  the 
proprietors  were  devoted  to  ruin. 

I  have  already  told  or  quoted  the  story  of  the  Kingston 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  189 

estates.  The  history  of  the  early  operations  of  the  new  court 
is  full  of  such  episodes.  Second  only  to  Lord  Kingston's 
case  in  the  sympathy  which  it  called  forth  was  that  of  Lord 
Gort.  Among  the  names  retained  in  Irish  popular  memory 
of  the  men  who  stood  by  "  ever-glorious  Grattan"  in  the  last 
days  of  the  L'ish  parliament,  that  of  Colonel  the  Right  Hon. 
Charles  Vereker,  M.P.,  is  honorably  placed.  Hurriedly 
called  to  the  field  by  the  alarm  of  a  French  landing  at 
Killala,  he  was  put  in  command  of  the  first  troops  assembled 
to  resist  the  eastward  march  of  the  Franco-Irish  force ;  and 
he  it  was  who,  at  Coloony,  near  Sligo,  first  reversed  the  dis- 
grace of  the  British  flight  at  Castlebar.  For  this  he  was 
made  Viscount  Gort,  taking  his  title  from  the  neat  little  town 
which  adjoined  the  family  demesne  at  Lough  Cooter  Castle.* 
The  French  were  finally  defeatetl  by  Lord  Lake  at  Ballina- 
muck,  and  Colonel  Vereker  returned  from  the  camp  to  the 
senate, — from  a  fight  for  his  king  against  Humbert,  to  a  fight 
for  his  country  against  Pitt.  His  name  figures  to  the  last  in 
the  division-lists  against  the  Union.  In  1850  his  son,  John 
P.  Vereker,  was  owner  of  the  castle  and  estates  when  the 
thunderbolt  that  laid  even  prouder  houses  low  fell  heavily 
and  undeservedly  on  his. 

Lough  Cooter  Castle,  one  of  the  "show  places"  of  the 
western  counties,  stands  on  the  edge  of  the  lake  from  which 
it  takes  its  name,  two  miles  from  the  town  of  Gort,  in  Galway 
County.  The  castle  is  quite  modern,  having  been  erected  at 
a  cost  of  about  eighty  thousand  pounds  by  the  second  viscount, 
from  plans  by  Nash,  the  renovator  and  architect  of  the  newly- 

*  The  Eight  Hon.  Colonel  Vereker  of  Coloony  had  the  peerage 
granted  to  his  uncle  John  Prendergast  of  Gort,  whose  heir  he  was,  and 
whose  property  he  inherited,  with  special  remainder  to  himself.  He 
accordingly  inherited  the  title  on  his  uncle's  death  as  second  viscount. 
The  flight  referred  to  was  called  "  the  races  of  Castlebar,"  and  as  such 
is  still  referred  to  in  the  neighborhood. 


190  ^^E^V  IRELAND. 

added  portion  of  Windsor  Castle.  It  is  described  as  built  in 
"  the  severe  Gothic"  style.  The  walls  are  of  massive  solidity, 
and  constructed  of  beautifully-chiselled  limestone.  The  lake 
covers  an  area  of  nearly  eight  square  miles,  and  is  studded 
with  wooded  islands.  One  of  these  has  been  for  years  the 
home  of  innumerable  herons  and  cormorants, — perhaps  the 
only  instance  on  record  of  an  island  in  a  fresh-water  lake  being 
inhabited  by  the  latter  birds.  The  Gort  River  flows  out  of 
the  lake,  and,  at  a  romantic  glen  known  as  "  the  Pimchbowl," 
distant  about  a  m.ile,  falls  into  a  deep  rocky  abyss,  totally  dis- 
appearing under  ground  till  it  reaches  Cannohoun.  Here  it 
rushes  out  of  a  rocky  cavern,  and  thence  flows  through  Gort, 
where  it  turns  several  mills,  and,  falling,  again  makes  its  way 
— apjiearing  and  sinking  several  times — through  the  sands 
into  Kinvarra  Bay,  six  miles  from  Gort. 

The  Gort  unsettled  estates  lay  under  a  debt  in  all  of  about 
sixty  thousand  pounds.  In  1842  they  were  valued,  for  family 
arrangement  purposes,  at  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
pounds,  but  were  always  considered  to  be  worth  much  more. 
Eighteen  hundred  and  forty-seven  found  Lord  Gort  a  resident 
landlord,  bravely  doing  his  duty,  refusing  to  fly,  scorning  to 
abandon  his  tenantry.  "  His  lordship,"  says  one  of  the  Irish 
newspa pel's,  "was  always  opposed  to  the  clearance  system, 
which  he  characterized  as  merciless  and  unjustifiable,  and 
endeavored  practically  to  prove  that  a  resident  landlord,  by 
availing  himself  of  the  opportunities  that  occurred  from  time 
to  time,  could  consolidate  the  farms  on  his  estates,  and  intro- 
duce every  modern  imj^rovement,  without  desolating  a  single 
happy  homestead  or  alienating  the  affections  of  his  tenantry." 
The  famine  came;  rents  could  not  be  paid,  and  Lord  Gort 
would  not  resort  to  heartless  means  of  attempting  to  extort  them. 
The  interest  on  the  mortgage  fell  in  arrear;  the  mortgagee, 
taking  advantage  of  a  clause  in  his  mortgage-deed,  discharged 
the  local  land-agent,  and  appointed  in  his  stead  a  London 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  191 

attorney,  who,  I  believe,  had  never  seen  the  place,  and  never 
visited  it  even  when  acting  as  receiver  over  it.  A  petition  for 
sale  of  the  property  was  lodged  in  Chancery,  whence  the  pro- 
ceedings were  transferred  to  the  new  court  created  by  the  En- 
cumbered Estates  Act.  One  may  imagine  the  feelings  of  Lord 
Gort  and  his  family,  for  they  but  too  well  knew  what  a  forced 
sale  of  landed  property  at  such  a  moment  meant.  Their  worst 
fears  were  realized.  They  saw  their  beautiful  home — their 
castle  and  lake  and  Jands — swept  away,  sold  at  panic  prices. 
An  estate  that  should  have  left  them  a  handsome  income  be- 
yond every  conceivable  claim  was  unable  to  free  the  mortgage! 
Right  well  they  knew — as  indeed  subsequently  happened — 
that  in  a  few  years  these  ancestral  acres,  thus  torn  from  them 
forever,  would  be  sold  again  at  very  nearly  double  their 
present  price.  Thirteen  years'  purchase  was,  I  believe,  the 
highest  given  at  this  sale.  Many  lots  were  sold  at  five. 
Some  portions  of  the  property  recently  resold  have  fetched 
twenty-five  and  twenty-seven !  Lough  Cooter  Castle,  worth 
from  fifty  thousand  to  sixty  thousand  pounds,  was  sold  for 
seventeen  thousand.  The  fortunate  purchaser — Mrs.  Ball, 
Superioress  of  the  Religious  Order  of  Mercy,  Dublin,  who 
intended  converting  it  into  a  novitiate  house  for  the  order 
— resold  it  soon  after  for  twenty-four  thousand  pounds. 

Lot  1,  valuation  five  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  a  year, 
realized  but  three  thousand  pounds.  Lot  2,  valuation  one 
hundred  and  fifty-five  pounds,  brought  six  hundred  pounds. 
The  Board  of  Ordnance  bought  Lord  Gort's  profit-rent  of 
eighty  pounds,  out  of  the  Gort  cavalry  barracks,  the  valua- 
tion being  two  hundred  and  eighty-three  pounds  a  year,  for 
one  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  The  constabu- 
lary barracks  and  other  premises,  valued  at  one  hundred  and 
twenty-three  pounds,  fetched  seven  hundred  pounds.  The 
town-lands,  valued  at  five  hundred  and  seventy-nine  pounds 
a  year,  were  bought  by  the  mortgagee  for  two  thousand  eight 


192  ^^W  IRELAND. 

hundred  pounds,  or  less  than  five  years'  purchase.  No  wonder 
that  sympathy  with  the  Vereker  family  was  wide  and  general. 
The  day  they  quitted  Lough  Cooter,  the  people  surrounded 
them  with  every  demonstration  of  attachment  and  respect, 
and  waved  them,  along  the  road,  a  sorrowful  farewell ! 

I  should  have  hesitated,  indeed,  to  touch  on  a  subject  so 
full  of  pain  as  this  must  ever  be  to  that  family,  were  it  not 
that  fortunate  circumstances  have,  happily,  since  then  retrieved 
those  unmerited  disasters,  and  restored,  or  rather  retained, 
to  them,  the  status  which  for  a  moment  seemed  so  cruelly 
overthrown.  In  East  Cowes  Castle  (adjoining  Osborne),  the 
present  seat  of  the  Gort  family,  they  must  find  much  to  re- 
mind them  of,  and  recompense  them  for,  the  equally  beauti- 
ful spot  once  their  home  on  Lough  Cooter ;  though  I  doubt 
not  they  would  rather  see  from  the  castle-windows  the  island- 
studded  Irish  lough  than  the  flashing  waters  of  the  Solent. 
It  is  a  curious  coincidence  that  Ea-^^t  Cowes  Castle  and  Lough 
Cooter  Castle  were  erected  fi'om  designs  by  the  same  hand, 
the  former  having  been  built  by  Nash  for  his  own  residence. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  the  Prince  Regent 
and  Lord  Gort  were  on  a  visit  there,  when  the  latter  said  to 
the  host,  '*  How  I  wish  I  could  transport  this  castle  to  the 
banks  of  Lough  Cooter  !"  "  Give  me  fifty  thousand  pounds 
and  I'll  do  it  for  you,"  replied  Nash.  The  viscount  took 
him  at  his  word ;  and  Nash  built  the  Irish  Castle,  which, 
however,  eventually  cost  more  than  twenty  thousand  pounds 
beyond  the  sum  first  named.  By  Mhat  a  strange  revolution 
of  fortune  it  has  come  to  pass  that  the  family  should  lose  the 
one  and  find  their  home  in  the  other  mansion  ! 

The  catastrophes  incidental  to  the  early  operations  of  the 
Encumbered  Estates  Act  were  sure  to  prejudice  Irish  opinion 
against  it,  and  to  obscure  from  view  the  merits  and  advan- 
tages of  the  system  it  inaugurated.  So  far  from  the  famine- 
period  being  an  "opportunity"  for  such  a  measure,  that  Aims 


THE  ENCUMBERED   ESTATES  ACT.  I93 

just  the  time  when  it  ought  to  have  been  withheld.  Forced 
into  operation  under  circumstances  so  abnormal,  it  worked, 
during  the  first  five  years  of  its  labors,  the  minimum  of 
benefit  with  the  maximum  of  suifering  and  sacrifice.  From 
1855  to  1875  the  functions  of  the  new  court  have  had  fairer 
scope,*  and  its  work  has  been  more  justly  appreciated ;  and 
no  one  in  Ireland  would  now  deny  the  advantage  of  a  sys- 
tem which  so  largely  frees  and  simplifies  the  transfer  of  land. 
I  subjoin  an  exhibit  of  the  proceedings  from  the  filing  of 
the  first  petition,  25th  of  October,  1849,  to  31st  of  August, 
1857,  being  the  concluding  day  of  the  seventh  "  session"  of 
the  commission : 

1.  Number  of  petitions  presented,  including  those  for  partition 

and  exchange,  as  well  as  for  sale    ......     4164 

(Of  the  above,  about  800  were  supplemental,  drawn  and  dis- 
missed petitions.) 

2.  Number  of  absolute  orders  for  sale 3341 

8.  Number  of  matters  in  which  owners  presented  petitions         .     1245 

(Of  the  first  100  petitions,  six  were  presented  by  owners.  Of 
the  last  100  petitions,  the  owners  of  estates  presented  fifty- 
three.) 

4.  Number  of  matters  in  which  owners  were  bankrupts  or  insol- 

vents      ...........       357 

(In  very  many  other  cases,  the  owners  of  estates  became  bank- 
rupts or  insolvents  after  the  petitions  were  presented,  and 
the  proceedings  were  subsequently  carried  on  in  the  name 
of  their  assignees.) 

5.  Number  of  conveyances  executed  by  the  commissioners  .     7283 

6.  Number  of  estates  or  parts  of  estates  sold  by  provincial  auc- 

tion, subsequently  confirmed  by  the  commissioners        .         .       338 
By  private  proposal,  accepted  by  the  commissioners. 
The  remainder  of  the  premises  comprised  in  the  above  7283 

conveyances   were   all  sold    by   public    auction,   in    court, 

before  the  commissioners. 

*  By  a  supplementary  or  extending  act — the  Irish  Landed  Estates 
Act — in  1858  the  powers  of  the  court  were  extended  to  include 
properties  not  encumbered. 

N  17 


194  ^^^  IRELAND. 

7.  Number  of  lots,  viz. : 

By  public  auction,  in  court 7270 

By  provincial  auction 1436 

By  private  contract 1621 

10,327 

When  the  same  person  became  the  purchaser  of  several  lots 
he  generally  had  them  included  in  the  same  conveyance. 

8.  Number  of  boxes  containing  upwards  of  250,000  documents 

and  muniments  of  title,  deposited  in  the  Eecord  Office  .     2395 

9.  Number  of  cases  -which  had  been  pending  in  the  Court  of 

Chancery  before  being  brought  into  the  Encumbered  Estates 
Court 1267 

10.  Number  of  Irish  purchasers 7180 

11.  Number  of  English,  Scotch,  and  foreign  purchasers       .         .       309 

12.  Amount   of  purchase-money  paid  by  English, 

Scotch,  and  foreign  purchasers         .         .         .     £2,836,225      0    0 

13.  Gross  proceeds  of  sale  to  31st  August,  1857  : 

By  public  auction,  in  court       .         .         .         .£13,941,207     10    0 

By  provincial  auction 2,824,381       0    0 

By  private  contract 3,710,367     18    4 

£20,475,956  8  4 
The  larjjest  estate  sold  witliin  that  period — the  largest  ever 
sold  by  the  court — was  that  of  the  Earl  of  Portarliiigton, 
which  realized  seven  hundred  thousand  pounds.  Very  nearly 
the  next  in  extent  was  that  of  Lord  INIountcashel, — sixty-one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  eleven  acres,  with  a  yearly  rental 
of  eighteen  thousand  five  hundred  pounds, — which  was  sold 
for  two  hundred  and  forty  thousand  pounds.  Lord  INIount- 
cashel,  who  considered  himself  treated  with  peculiar  harsh- 
ness and  injustice  by  the  petitioners,  was  greatly  angered  with 
Mr.  Commissioner  Hargreave,  before  whom  the  sale  was  con- 
summated. The  commissioner,  as  is  well  remembered  in 
Dublin,  was  a  very  small-sized  gentleman,  and  his  office  was 
situate  on  the  bedroom  story  of  the  house  14  Henrietta  Street, 
at  that  time  used  as  the  Landed  Estiites  Court.  I^ord  ISIount- 
cashel,  during  the  proceedings,  was  heard  to  exclaim  that  it 
was  bad  enough  to  have  his  estates  confiscated,  but  to  be 


THE  ENCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT.  195 

*'  sold  up  by  a  dwarf  in  a  garret"  was  more  than  he  could 
endure ! 

Since  1860  the  transactions  in  the  court  have  considerably 
changed  in  character.  Adverse  petitions  by  encumbrancers 
grow  fewer,  and  applications  by  owners  themselves,  anxious 
to  simplify  title  and  to  disentangle  family  settlements  and 
arrangements,  grow  more  and  more  frequent.  The  tribunal 
once  viewed  with  such  gloomy  aversion  is  now  regarded  with 
something  akin  to  national  favor. 

The  anticipations  and  prophecies  about  "  English  capital" 
have  all  proved  illusory.  It  will  be  noticed  from  the  statis- 
tics given  above  that  up  to  August,  1857,  out  of  seven  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  eigiity-nine  purchasers,  seven  thousand 
one  hundred  and  eighty  were  Irish  ;  only  three  hundred  and 
nine  were  "  English,  Scotch,  or  foreigners."  Out  of  twenty 
million  four  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  nine  hundred 
and  fifty-six  pounds  realized  by  the  court  up  to  the  same  date, 
more  than  five-sixths  of  the  amount,  or  seventeen  million  six 
hundred  and  thirty-nine  thousand  seven  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  pounds,  was  Irish  capital,  invested  by  Irish  purchasers ; 
and,  although  I  am  unable  to  verify  the  exact  figures  of  the 
interval  since  then,  I  believe  the  proportion  between  Irish 
and  non-Irish  purchasers  remains  very  much  the  same  to  the 
present  time.  English  capital  has  preferred  Turkish  bonds 
and  Honduras  loans. 

The  tenantry  in  many  instances  complain  that  they  have 
gained  little  and  lost  much  in  the  change  from  the  old  mas- 
ters to  the  new.  The  latter  are  chiefly  mercantile  men  who 
have  saved  money  in  trade  and  invest  it  for  a  safe  percentage. 
They  import  what  the  country-people  depreciatingly  call  "  tiie 
ledger  and  day-book  principle"  into  the  management  of  their 
purchases,  which  contrasts  unfavorably  in  their  minds  with 
the  more  elastic  system  of  the  old  owners.  Although  not 
blind  to  the  hardships  which  often  attend  this  greater  strict- 


196  ^^W  IRELAND. 

ness,  I  consider  the  new  system  has  introduced  few  more 
valuable  reforms  than  this  which  enforces  method,  punctual- 
ity, and  precision  in  the  half-yearly  settlements  between 
landlord  and  tenant  in  Ireland.  It  is  not  conducive  to  a 
manly  independence  that  the  occupier  should  be  permanently 
"behindhand  with  his  rent;"  that  is  to  say,  beholden  to  the 
favor  and  sufferance  of  his  lord.  Much  of  the  subjection  and 
the  slavishness  of  peasant  life  in  the  old  Ireland  grew  out  of 
this  habitual  arrear ;  and  one  must  honestly  rejoice  if  it  be 
changed  in  the  new. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


THE   TENANT    LEAGUE. 


It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  the  enormous  dimensions  to 
which  the  "  Famine  clearances"  had  attained  would  fail  to 
evoke  some  protest  of  public  opinion.  By  1850  the  eviction- 
scenes  had  filled  the  land  with  uneasiness  and  alarm.  The 
theory  that  had  for  a  while  lulled  the  country  into  a  sort  of 
tolerance  of  them — namely,  that  clearances  and  emigration 
would  make  things  "  better  for  those  who  went,  and  for  those 
who  remained" — gave  place  to  apprehensions  that  intensified 
every  day.  As  early  as  the  spring  of  1849,  public  meetings 
began  to  give  a  voice  to  the  general  sentiment,  and  ere  many 
montlis  the  whole  island  was  in  moral  revolt.  Not  one  prov- 
ince alone — not  one  geographical  section  alone,  as  had  hitherto 
been  the  case — declared  for  resistance.  The  sturdy  Presby- 
terians of  Down  and  Antrim  and  Derry  were  as  resolute  as 
the  quick-blooded  Catholic  Celts  of  Cork  and  Mayo  and 
Tipperary.  For  the  first  time  in  fifty  years  Ulster  held  out 
a  hand  to  Munster  in  fraternal  grasp.  The  ruin  that  had 
desolated  the  other  provinces  was  beginning  its  work  of  de- 
struction in  the  North. 

In  studying  the  Irish  land  question,  one  is  confronted  in 
limine  by  what  is  called  the  "  Ulster  custom,"  or  the  "  Ulster 
tenant-right."  To  this  custom,  or  right,  Ulster  is  admittedly 
indebted  for  the  exceptional  prosperity  and  contentment  of 
its  agricultural  population.  To  the  absence  of  that  custom 
— the  denial  of  any  such  right — elsewhere  in  Ireland  may 
be  most  largely  attributed  the  dismal  contrast  which  has  pre- 
vailed in  these  respects.     This  Ulster  system  has  within  the 

17*  197 


198  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

past  century  been  somewhat  encroached  upon,  and  now  varies 
in  different  parts  of  the  province,  and  even  on  different  prop- 
erties of  the  same  owner.     It  grew  out  of  the  spirit  more 
than  the  letter  of  the  charters  and  grants  under  which  Ulster 
was  ''  planted"  in   the  reign  of  James  I.     Substantially  it 
was  a  right  of  continuous  occupancy  by  the  tenant,  at  a  fair 
rent, — one  not  raised  by  reason  of  any  value  added  to,  the 
soil  by  the  tenant's  industry  or  outlay.     This  right  of  occu- 
pancy grew  to  be  in  the  aggregate  a  vast  property,  according 
as  the  tenants  improved  the  soil  and  increased  the  value  of 
their  holdings.    The  tenant-right  of  many  properties  exceedal 
in  value  the  fee-simple  purchase.     A  property,  be  it  sup- 
posed, the  fair  value  of  which,  exclusive  of  tenant's  improve- 
ments, was  judged  to  be  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year,  or  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  in  all,  half  a  century  ago, 
had,  by  the  labor  and  ca])ital  of  the  tenants  expended  there- 
upon, become  value  for  twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year,  or 
five  hundred  thousand  pounds.     Of  this  the   landlord  still 
owned  but  his  two  hundred  and  fif'ty  thoasand  pounds ;  the 
other  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  belonged  to  the 
tenantry,  was  recognized  to  be  as  fully  and  legally  theirs  as 
the  landlord's   fee-simple  was    his.      This    tenant-right  was 
bought  aud  sold  daily;  that  is,  the  out-going  sold  to  the  in- 
coming tenant  his  interest  in  the  farm.     On  a  farm  of  fifty 
acres  an  Ulster  tenant  has  often  obtained  twenty  years',  some- 
times thirty  years',  purchase  of  the  margin  between  his  rent 
and  the  valuation,  probably  a  sum  of  three  thousand  pounds. 
If  a  landlord  wished  to  evict  a  tenant,  he  could  do  so  by 
buying  up  from  him  the  tenant-right  of  the  farm.    He  could, 
of  course,  evict  for  non-payment  of  rent,  or  other  reasons;  but 
in  every  such  case  he  was  bound  to  hand  over  in  cash  to  the 
evicted  tenant  any  balance  remaining  out  of  the  marketable 
value  of  the  tenant-right  of  the  holding  after  deducting  the 
amount  of  rent,  cost,  or  damages  legally  due.    Or  (very  much 


THE    TENANT  LEAGUE.  199 

the  same  in  effect)  the  landlord  might  say  to  the  tenant, 
"  You  are  not  paying  your  rent ;  you  are  wasting  your  farm ; 
you  must  quit;  go  sell  as  best  you  can  your  tenant-right,  pay 
me  my  claims,  and  go." 

Under  this  system — unknown,  or  rather  unrecognized  by 
law,  outside  of  Ulster — that  province  bloomed  like  a  garden, 
and  became  the  home  of  thrift  and  plenty,  of  contentment 
and  prosperity,  even  before  the  energy  of  its  people,  applied 
to  manufacturing  industries,  had  opened  for  them  new  paths 
to  wealth. 

How  was  it  that  this  system,  so  fruitful  in  good  result,  was 
established  in  one  province  alone  ?  Why  have  the  efforts  of 
the  tenant  class  elsewhere  to  obtain  like  rights  been  so  steadily 
and  vehemently  resisted? 

The  answer  is  neither  pleasant  to  tell  nor  agreeable  to  hear. 
Because  Ulster  was  a  "  Plantation  colony ;"  because  in  Ulster 
the  plantation  landlords  got  their  lands  on  implied  or  ex- 
pressed condition  of  "  planting"  them, — rooting  a  population 
in  the  soil ;  whereas  elsewhere  the  policy  of  the  time  was  to 
unplant,  to  uproot,  to  clear  away  the  Popish  natives.  Even 
where,  in  the  other  provinces,  in  course  of  time  the  uprooting 
became  too  odious  or  too  dangerous,  there  still  remained  this 
much  of  its  essence,  in  strong  contrast  to  "  the  Ulster  cus- 
tom," namely,  the  axiom  that  the  tenant  had  no  right  of 
continuous  occupancy,  held  only  from  year  to  year  on  the 
landlord's  sufferance,  and  was  not  regarded  in  law  as  owning 
a  shilling's  worth  of  even  his  own  outlay.  If  he  drained  or 
improved,  so  that  bog-land  worth  two  shillings  an  acre  was 
made  corn-land  worth  as  many  pounds,  the  landlord  was 
legally  entitled  to  call  that  improvement  his,  and  to  make 
that  tenant  pay  two  pounds  an  acre  for  that  land. 

What  could  come  of  such  a  system  as  this,  the  cruel  oppo- 
site of  the  "  Ulster  right,"  but  a  state  of  agriculture  and  a 
state  of  society  the  reverse  of  that  which  smiled  on  the 


200  ^'^^V  IRELAND. 

northern  province?  Negligence  in  place  of  thrift;  squalor 
in  place  of  comfort  and  neatness ;  hovels  in  place  of  houses  ;* 
insecurity,  mistrust,  ill  will,  hostility  between  landlord  and 
tenant;  a  hatred  of  the  Government,  and  a  deadly  hostility 
to  the  law,  that  drew  this  line  of  distinction,  this  line  of 
oppression  and  wrong,  between  the  Protestant  North  and  the 
Popish  South.  If  happily  the  evils  one  would  have  thought 
inevitable  were  not  everywhere  visible,  it  w^as  in  spite  of  the 
system,  not  because  of  it.  If  the  landlord  did  not  in  every 
case  appropriate  in  the  shape  of  a  raised  rent  the  fruits  of  the 
tenant's  industry,  it  was  because  that  particular  landlord  or 
family  was  more  honest  than  the  law. 

In  a  differently-constituted  community — in  a  country  where 
proprietor  and  cultivator  were  of  one  race  and  faith,  boasted 
of  tlie  same  nationality,  and  were  on  the  whole  moved  by  the 
same  political  aims — this  system  might  perhaps  work  but 
little  evil ;  although  the  empowering  of  one  class  to  profit 
by  wronging  another  generally  produces  social  conflict.  But 
in  the  Celtic  Catholic  provinces  of  Ireland,  where  the  soil 
was,  as  a  rule,  given  over  to  be  owned  by  men  of  one  nation 
and  creed,  and  tilled  by  men  of  another  race  and  faith,  where 
lord  and  peasant  represented  conqueror  and  conquered,  what 
was  such  a  code  calculated  to  bring  forth  ? 

Besides,  it  was  not  merely  that  the  farmers  of  Munster, 
Connaught,  and  Leinster  saw  equity  made  to  be  the  law  in 
the  Protestant  corner  of  the  island,  but  that,  moreover,  this 
same  right  of  continuous  occupancy,  at  a  fair  rent  or  "  lord's 

*  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  wretchedness  of  Irish  peasant  homes, 
their  grievous  disregard  of  comfort,  neatness,  or  cleanliness,  was  derived 
almost  entirely  from  the  idea  that  improvement  would  invoke  a  rise  of 
rent.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  was  full  of  a  glowing  zeal  for  "  cottage 
flower-gardens"  and  removal  of  threshold  dung-heaps  ;  but  my  exhor- 
tations were  all  to  no  purpose.  I  was  extinguished  by  the  reinark, 
"  Begor,  sir,  if  we  make  the  place  so  nate  as  that,  the  agint  will  say  we 
■are  able  to  pay  more  rint." 


THE   TENANT  LEAGUE.  201 

tribute,"  was,  in  truth,  their  own  ancient  Celtic  tenure,  to 
which  they  clung  with  inveterate  tenacity.  The  subjection 
of  Ireland  to  the  English  Crown — the  confiscations  of  six 
centuries — meant,  in  their  minds,  change  of  masters  to  whom 
rent  was  payable,  but  never  a  change  which  annihilated  their 
right  to  occupy  the  land  on  payment  of  its  rent.  In  tlieory 
of  law,  no  doubt,  the  new  system  came  in  when  the  Brehon 
Code  disappeared  in  1607  ;  but  for  two  centuries  afterwards 
the  full  nature  and  extent  of  the  change  as  to  land  tenure 
was  not  recognized  by  the  agricultural  population.  The 
treaty  between  England  and  Ireland,  concluded  on  the  ca- 
pitulation of  Limerick  in  1691,  contained  many  hard  terms, 
though  it  secured  some  valuable  rights  for  the  latter  country, 
which,  though  the  pact  was  broken  on  the  other  side,  never 
drew  hostile  sword  again  for  more  than  a  hundred  years. 
Had  the  masses  of  the  population,  however,  realized  that  it 
was  not  merely  a  change  of  landlords,  but  a  loss  of  right  to 
live  upon  the  soil,  that  the  revolution  brought  for  them,  they 
would  have  bathed  the  island  in  blood  before  they  submitted. 
As  it  was,  according  as  the  dreadful  reality  slowly  dawned  on 
them,  they  resisted  it  in  their  isolated,  disorganized,  and  law- 
less way,  by  the  rude  and  horrible  warfiire  known  in  our  sad 
annals  as  "  agrarian  outrage."  The  "  Rapparees"  and  "  To- 
ries" of  the  last  century— the  "  Whitefeet,"  the  "  Terryalts," 
the  "Eockites,"  the  "Defenders,"  the  "  Ribbonmen"— all 
these  agrarian  combinations  and  conspiracies  were  merely  so 
many  phases  in  what  has  been  aptly  called  "  a  low  form  of 
civil  war." 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  how  should  Ulster  tenants,  blessed 
with  so  secure  a  tenure  and  with  property  so  well  protected, 
suffer  by  the  ills  which  led  to  "  clearances"  elsewhere  in 
1849  and  1850?  The  answer  and  explanation  bring  into 
view  a  feature  or  result  of  the  Ulster  system  which  few  per- 
sons, even  in  that  province  itself,  seem  to  have  perceived. 


202  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

The  Ulster  custom  was  almost  exclusively  beneficial  for  the 
tenant  as  long  as  things  went  well ;  but  if  a  series  of  adverse 
seasons  came,  and  the  value  of  farm-holdings  fell,  the  loss 
was  exclusively  his.  Before  the  landlord's  interest  could  be 
affected  to  the  extent  of  a  shilling,  the  tenant-right,  equal  in 
value  to  the  fee-simple,  should  fii-st  be  consumed.  The  rent 
was  always  a  first  lien  on  that  tenant-right ;  and  as  long  as 
at  auction  it  would  fetch  a  penny  more  than  the  rent,  the 
landlord  was  in^no  way  to  suffer  by  "  bad  times."  Of  course 
there  were  to  be  found  several  Ulster  landlords  who  in  '48, 
'49,  and  '50  disdained  to  stand  in  this  way  on  their  undoubted 
right,  and  who  stepped  forward  voluntarily  to  assist  their  ten- 
antry ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  Avhole  of  the  famine-losses 
came  out  of  the  margin  of  value  which,  in  the  form  of 
tenant-right  interest,  stood  between  the  landlords  and  any 
touch  of  disaster.  The  occasion,  moreover,  was  seized  by 
some  of  the  northern  landlords  to  buy  up  in  hard  bargains 
of  the  necessitous  tenant,  or  to  encroach  upon  and  cramp  and 
squeeze  the  ancient  rights  of  which  the  Ulster  farmers  were 
so  proud  ;  so  that  in  1850  the  Derry  Standard  and  Banna'  of 
Ulster  newspapers  were  as  "  seditiously"  violent  in  language 
as  the  Nation,  the  Cork  Examiner,  or  the  Freeman's  Journal. 
Following  upon  the  public  meetings  came  the  formation  of 
what  were  called  "Tenant  Protection  Societies."  The  first 
in  point  of  time  was  established  in  Callan,  county  Kilkenny, 
where  two  young  curates  of  the  Catholic  Church — Eev. 
Thomas  O'Shea  and  Rev.  Matthew  Keeffe — had,  by  their 
passionate  eloquence  and  earnest  enthusiasm,  aroused  the 
whole  population.  But  the  North,  the  men  of  Ulster,  led  by 
the  honored  veteran  of  the  tenant's  cause,  AVilliara  Sharman 
Crawford,  M.P.,  early  took  the  front.  It  was  not  alone  in 
their  press  and  on  their  platforms  tlie  Ulster  Presbyterians 
agitated  tenant-right;  they  imported  it  into  their  strictly 
ecclesiastical  assemblages  or  synods,  much  to  the  horror  of 


THE   TENANT  LEAGUE.  203 

some  of  the  elders.  When  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rogers,  of  Comber, 
moved  a  resolution  in  the  Presbyterian  Synod  of  Ulster 
(May,  1850)  that  a  petition  be  presented  to  Parliament  in 
favor  of  tenant-right,  Dr.  Cooke  said  it  was  dreadful.  Not 
that  he  was  less  ardent  as  a  tenant-righter  than  the  youngest 
of  them ;  but  he  had  heard  "  rank  communism"  preached  by 
some  of  the  reverend  brethren  around  him.  Mr.  Potter,  of 
Islandmagee,  asked  him  what  he  meant;  the  land  question 
was  intimately  connected  with  the  moral  and  religious  condi- 
tion of  their  people.  Dr.  Cooke  replied  that  some  of  the 
brethren  had  committed  communism  by  "attacks  on  the  no- 
bility and  aristocracy  of  the  land,  thus  violating  the  word  of 
God,  which  says,  '  Thou  shalt  not  speak  evil  of  the  ruler  of 
my  people ;'  "  which  he  interpreted  there  and  then  to  mean, 
not  merely  the  Queen,  but  all  concerned  in  governing  the 
country.     This  was  rather  too  much  for  the  synod. 

Rev.  Mr.  Rogers. — "  With  regard  to  the  Socialist  doc- 
trines alleged  to  have  been  taught  by  tenant-right  advocates, 
I  shall  just  say  that  for  the  last  two  hundred  years  Socialism 
has.  been  all  on  the  other  side  (hear,  hear).  The  entire  outlay 
of  the  tenant-farmers  has  gone  periodically  into  the  pockets 
of  the  landlords.  A  small  minority  have  swallowed  up  the 
property  of  nine-tenths  of  the  province " 

Dr.  Cooke. — "  Now,  here  it  is:  we  have  Socialism  preached 
here  in  the  synod  !" 

Mr.  Rogers. — "  I  state  a  fact.  It  would  seem  to  be  for- 
gotten by  some  members  that  the  poor  man  has  property 
which  should  be  as  fully  secured  as  that  of  the  rich." 

Eventually,  by  a  large  majority,  the  synod  resolved,  "That 
the  synod  do  petition  Parliament  that  whatever  measure  they 
may  adopt  to  adjust  the  relations  of  landlord  and  tenant  in 
Ireland,  such  measure  shall  secure  to  the  tenant-farmers  of 
Ulster,  in  all  its  integrity,  the  prescriptive  usage  of  that 
province,  known  by  the  name  of  tenant-right." 


204  ^^^  IRELAND. 

Then  came  the  adoption  of  the  petition  referred  to,  when 
ground  was  for  the  first  time  boldly  taken  by  those  Presby- 
terian clergymen  on  an  issue  which  at  the  present  hour,  in 
1877,  occupies  the  attention  of  Parliament, — the  extension 
by  law  to  the  rest  of  Ireland  of  rights  and  securities  analo- 
gous to  those  of  the  Ulster  custom.  Dr.  Cooke  in  grief 
declared  that  this  was  what  came  of  the  public  sin  of  Presby- 
terian ministers  being  seen  on  the  one  political  platform  with 
Romish  priests.     Then — 

^Ir.  Rogers. — "  There  has  been  a  serious  objection  raised 
against  me  in  reference  to  my  conduct  because  I  have  co- 
operated Avith  Popish  priests.  I  may  have  been  wrong  in  so 
doing ;  and  all  I  wish  to  say  on  the  subject  is  that  in  doing  it 
I  was  only  following  the  example  of  Dr.  Cooke." 

Dr.  Cooke. — "  I  defy  you  to  show  I  ever  co-operated  with 
one.     Where  or  when  was  it?" 

Mr.  Rogers. — "  Precisely  in  reference  to  the  site  of  the 
Queen's  College.  I  was  present  at  a  meeting  at  which  Dr. 
Cooke  and  Dr.  Denvir,  Catholic  bishop,  were  both  present." 

This  dreadful  imputation,  however,  the  venerable  old 
clergyman  was  able  to  disprove;  but  he  could  not  shake  the 
determination  of  the  synod  to  pass  its  approval  of  the  great 
agitation  now  proceeding  out-of  doors. 

The  evil  which  so  appalled  Dr.  Cooke — Presbyterian  and 
Catholic  clergymen  co-operating  on  the  same  platform — was 
soon  to  obtain  wide  dimensions.  The  necessity  for  a  central 
authority  to  take  charge  of  the  new  movement  had  become 
deeply  felt ;  and  it  was  a  very  obvious  advantage  to  organize 
in  one  great  association  the  numerous  tenant  societies,  and  like 
local  bodies,  so  far  working  independently  all  over  the  island. 
On  the  27th  of  April,  1850,  the  following  announcement 
appeared  in  the  Irish  newspapers: 

"  A  conference  is  about  to  be  summoned  in  Dublin  in  which  the  tenant 
societies  of  the  four  provinces  will  have  an  opportunity  of  comparing 


THE   TENANT  LEAGUE.  205 

their  views  and  taking  measures  together.  The  parties  who  have  united 
in  summoning  it  belong  to  all  sections  of  the  popular  party,  and  have 
nothing  in  common  but  a  desire  to  bring  this  question  to  a  satisfactory- 
settlement.  Their  circular  is  about  being  sent  to  all  existing  tenant 
societies,  to  the  popular  journalists,  and  to  the  most  active  and  influential 
friends  of  tenant-right  in  localities  which  have  not  yet  been  organized." 

The  circular  Avas  signed  by  three  prominent  representative 
men,  of  as  many  different  creeds,  —  Dr.  (subsequently  Sir 
John)  Gray,  proprietor  and  editor  of  the  Freeman's  Journal, 
Church-of-England  Protestant ;  Samuel  McCurdy  Greer,  bar- 
rister-at-law  (subsequently  member  for  Derry  County),  Ulster 
Presbyterian ;  and  Frederick  Lucas,  proprietor  and  editor  of 
the  Tablet,  Catholic.  The  proposal  was  enthusiastically  ap- 
proved throughout  the  kingdom.  In  every  province  and 
every  county  there  was,  during  the  early  summer  months,  but 
the  one  subject  of  public  effort,  anxiety,  and  interest, — the 
forthcoming  Tenant  Conference. 

On  the  6th  of  August,  1850,  a  truly  remarkable  assemblage 
filled  to  overflowing  the  City  Assembly  House,  William  Street, 
Dublin,  the  use  of  which  was  specially  voted  by  the  Civic 
Council.  The  sharp  Scottish  accent  of  Ulster  mingled  with 
the  broad  Doric  of  Munster.  Presbyterian  ministers  greeted 
"  Popish  priests  with  fraternal  fervor."  Mr.  James  Godkin, 
editor  of  the  stanch  Covenanting  Derry  Standard  (a  gentle- 
man whose  signal  literary  abilities  have  been  consistently  de- 
voted to  the  impartial  service  of  Irish  interests),  sat  side  by 
side  with  John  Francis  Maguire  of  the  Ultramontane  Cork 
Examiner.  Magistrates  and  landlords  were  there ;  while  of 
tenant  delegates  every  province  sent  up  a  great  array.  By 
general  acclaim  an  Ulster  Presbyterian  journalist,  James 
McKnight,  LL.D.,*   editor  of  the  Banner  of    Ulster,  was 


*  It  is  but  a  j-ear  since  Dr.  McKnight  closed  a  long  life  of  honorable 
labor  in  the  service  of  his  co-religionists  and  countrymen  of  Ulster.    In 

18 


206  ^^^  IRELAND. 

voted  to  the  chair.  The  Conference  sat  for  four  days.  Reso- 
lutions were  adopted  declaring  that  "a  fair  valuation  of  rent 
between  landlord  and  tenant  in  Ireland"  was  indispensable ; 
that  "  the  tenant  should  not  be  disturbed  in  his  possession  so 
long  as  he  paid  such  rent ;"  and  that  "  the  tenant  should  have 
a  right  to  sell  his  interest  with  all  its  incidents  at  the  highest 
market  value." 

Early  in  its  deliberations  the  Conference  was  confronted 
with  a  subject  of  some  difficulty.  During  the  famine  years 
there  had  accrued  all  over  the  country  arrears  of  rent,  which, 
even  where  not  pressed  for  and  made  the  excuse  for  immediate 
eviction,  remained  "on  the  books"  against  the  tenantry,  hang- 
ing over  them  like  a  sword  of  Damocles.  It  was  felt  that 
a  really  wise  national  Government  would  declare  "  arrears" 
which  had  thus  accrued — by  a  dreadful  visitation  of  Provi- 
dence, prolonged  through  tliree  or  four  years — a  public 
burden  to  be  discharged  or  commuted  by  the  State.  The 
Conference  was  clearly  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  vain  trying 
to  settle  the  Irish  Land  question  if  by  reason  of  these  "famine 
arrears"  the  whole  tenantry  might  at  any  moment  be  over- 
whelmed.    Eventually  this  resolution  was  adopted  : 

"  That  in  any  valuation  which  shall  be  made  before  the  31st  Decem- 
ber,   ,  the  valuators  shall,  on  the  demand  of  either  landlord  or  tenant, 

inquire  into  the  arrears  of  rent  due  by  the  tenant ;  shall  estimate  the 
amount  .which  during  the  famine  years  would  have  been  due  and  pay- 
able for  rent  under  a  valuation,  if  such  had  been  made,  according  to 
the  prices  and  circumstances  of  same  years,  and  also  the  amount  which 
during  the  same  period  has  actually  been  paid  for  rent  to  the  landlord  ; 
shall  award  the  balance,  if  any,  to  be  the  arrears  then  due;  and  that 
the  amount  so  awarded  for  arrears  be  payable  by  instalments  at  such 
period  as  shall  be  fixed  by  the  valuators,  and  shall  be  recoverable  in  all 
respects  as  if  it  were  rent." 

On  the  third  day  a  new"  organization  was  established,  called 

learning  and  ability,  as  well  as  in  high  personal  character,  he  stood 
among  the  front  rank  of  Irish  press-men. 


THE   TENANT  LEAGUE.  207 

"  The  Irish  Tenant  League."  On  the  fourth  a  Council  was 
chosen,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  gentlemen  from 
the  four  provinces,  and  the  Conference  separated,  having  con- 
tributed to  Irish  political  history  within  this  generation  one 
of  its  most  notable  events.  Many  leading  men  in  England 
quickly  realized  the  import  of  what  had  been  done.  The 
Conference  had  barely  closed  its  sittings  when  Mr.  John 
Bright  drew  attention  to  the  subject  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons: 

"  The  noble  lord  at  the  head  of  the  Government  had  referred  to  a  few 
bills ;  among  the  rest  to  the  Landlord  and  Tenant  Bill.  That  subject 
was  now  a  matter  of  the  first  importance,  not  alone  as  regarded  the 
people  of  Ireland,  but  with  regard  to  what  had  just  taken  place  (hear, 
hear).  A  Conference  had  been  sitting  in  Dublin  of  earnest  men  from 
all  parts  of  Ireland  (hear,  hear).  Now,  sir  (continued  the  honorable 
gentleman),  without  agreeing  in  all  that  has  been  said  and  done  by 
that  Conference,  we  cannot  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  of  its  importance, 
and  that  it  will  be  the  means  of  evoking  a  more  formidable  agitation 
than  has  been  witnessed  for  many  years  (hear,  hear).  Instead  of  the 
agitation  being  confined,  as  heretofore,  to  the  Eoman  Catholics  and  their 
clergy,  Protestant  and  Dissenting  clergymen  seem  to  be  amalgamated 
with  Roman  Catholics  at  present;  indeed  there  seems  an  amalgamation 
of  all  sects  on  this  question,  and  I  think  it  time  the  House  should 
resolutely  legislate  on  it  (hear,  hear)." 

That  M'^as  August,  1850.  Jolin  Bright  was  before  his  time. 
Twenty  years  subsequently — after  feelings  had  been  embit- 
tered, hopes  betrayed,  homes  wrecked,  families  scattered, 
and  passions  roused  to  fury — the  House  of  Commons  found 
a  minister  of  the  Crown  acting  on  the  advice  thus  tendered 
by  "  tlie  member  for  Rochdale." 

Through  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1850  the  country 
flung  itself  into  the  new  movement  with  energy,  enthusiasm, 
and  unanimity.  But  a  parliamentary  policy  requires  a 
parliamentary  party  to  carry  it  into  effect,  and  the  Tenant 
League  had  as  yet  no  such  l)arty.  The  Irish  representation 
of  that  time  was  but  a  miserable  parody  of  reality.     Elected 


208  J^^JT  IRELAND. 

in  the  dismal  years  of  famine  and  insurrection,  panic  and 
despair, — when  the  people  recked  as  little  who  scrambled  on 
the  hustings  as  how  the  idle  breezes  blew, — the  Irish  mem- 
bers of  1850  represented  little  more  than  the  personal  views 
and  interests  of  the  individuals  themselves.  The  cowering 
reaction,  the  political  prostration,  that  followed  the  fever  of 
]848,  was  sadly  reflected  in  their  array.  It  was  by  accident 
that  the  League  could  reckon  on  the  support  of  even  half  a 
dozen  men  of  g-enuine  earnestness  and  sincerity  among;  them. 
The  only  hope  of  th*at  organization  was  that  by  efficient 
agitation  they  might  create  a  public  opinion  which  would  at 
the  next  opportunity  send  to  Parliament  men  of  ability  and 
integrity  devoted  to  the  tenant's  cause.  The  Irish  Liberal 
members,  such  as  they  were,  regarded  the  Land  League  with 
no  great  favor.  It  was  plainly  calculated  to  put  them  in  a 
dilenmia.  They  believal  in  attaching  themselves  to  the 
official  Liberals  of  Westminster  regions,  —  to  the  powers 
who  dispensed  patronage  and  pay,  emoluments,  titles,  and 
distinctions.  To  serve  Lord  John  Russell,  to  obey  his 
whips,  until  some  day  a  governorship  of  the  Leeward 
Islands  or  an  embassy  to  Timbuctoo  might  reward  his  pa- 
triotism, was  the  great  aim  and  purpose  of  an  Irish  Liberal 
member  in  those  days.  But  these  troublesome  tenant-right 
fellows  were  going  on  lines  which  were  incompatible  with 
this.  The  tenant-right  demands  were  not  favored  by  the 
Government, — were  likely  to  be  opposed  by  Lord  John. 
What  was  an  Irish  Liberal  to  do?  Break  with  the  min- 
istry, and  lose  all  chance  of  a  place, — or  reject  the  tenant- 
right  shibboleth,  and  lose  all  chance  of  re-election?  The 
resolution  taken  by  most  men  of  this  type  was  to  "  trim  ;" 
to  hold  with  the  tenant-righters  as  far  as  was  judiciously 
requisite,  but  to  break  with  the  Treasury  bench  on  no 
account. 

There  were  men  in  the  ranks  of  the  League  who  saw  all 


THE   TENANT  LEAGUE.  209 

this ;  who  accurately  measured  and  weighed  the  worth  of  ad- 
hesion on  the  part  of  such  public  representatives;  and  who 
rightly  judged  that  the  real  danger  and  weakness  of  the 
popular  movement  would  begin  when  they  affected  to  em- 
brace it. 

Out  of  the  intense  earnestness  of  the  Leaguers — their  soul- 
felt  conviction  that  they  were  fighting  a  life-and-death  strug- 
gle for  the  Irish  race — grew  the  policy  or  doctrine  known  in 
recent  Irish  politics  as  "  Independent  Opposition."  It  declared 
that  so  momentous  was  this  issue,  all  others  for  the  time  must 
give  way  to  it,  and  that  to  every  ministry  who  refused  or  hes- 
itated to  settle  a  question  so  vital  for  Ireland,  uncompromis- 
ing opposition  should  be  given  by  Irish  members.  This  doc- 
trine made  its  appearance  in  1851.  It  was  the  teaching  of 
what  were  called  "  extreme"  tenant-righters,  and  was  not 
liked  at  all  by  the  old-school  politicians.  The  idea  of  Irish 
©atholic  and  Liberal  members  acting  with  the  Tory  oj>posi- 
tion  under  any  conceivable  circumstances  was  too  startling  a 
novelty  for  them.  Dr.  Cooke  was  not  more  alarmed  by  the 
vision  of  Presbyterian  ministers  co-operating  with  Popish 
priests.  Nevertheless,  so  thoroughly  did  the  public  judgment 
eventually  approve  the  proposition  that  it  became  an  article 
of  the  national  faith. 

As  in  a  distant  mountain-tarn  or  valley-stream  we  find  the 
source  of  some  great  river  which  divides  nation  from  nation, 
so  here  we  have  the  first  appearance  in  Anglo-Irish  politics 
of  a  policy  which  even  at  the  ])resent  day  separates  the  Irish 
popular  representation  in  Parliament  from  imperial  parties. 
Hitherto  the  policy  and  practice  of  that  body  had  been  to 
attach  themselves  to  and  form  a  portion  of  the  general  "  Lib- 
eral party"  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The  Tories  were  re- 
garded as  the  "natural  enemies"  of  Catholic  Irishmen,  the 
Whigs  their  only  possible  protectors ;  albeit  these  patrons 
exhibited  betimes  a  rather  contumelious  regard  for  their  Irish 
0  18* 


210  ^EW  IRELAND. 

auxiliaries.  But  now  salus  popuU  supretna  lex  est ;  nothing 
that  Whigs  or  Tories  could  do,  short  of  saving  the  people 
from  destruction,  was  to  determine  the  support  or  assistance 
of  Irish  representatives. 

While  the  Presbyterian  North  and  Catholic  South  were 
thus  clasping  hands  and  marching  on  side  by  side,  there  burst 
upon  Ireland  a  storm  in  which  they  were  to  be  hopelessly 
sundered.  On  the  4th  of  November,  1850,  Lord  John  Rus- 
sell, the  Liberal  Premier,  issued  his  celebrated  "  Durham 
Letter."  The  organization  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  Eng-- 
land  had  just  been  restored  to  its  parochial  and  diocesan 
form.  The  prelates,  in  place  of  being  *'  bishops  in  partibus 
infideUum/'  were  to  be  bishops  of  the  districts  actually  under 
their  charge, — Westminster,  Nottingham,  Liverpool,  or  South- 
wark,  as  the  case  might  be.  "  Any  one  can  stir  up  Eng- 
land with  the  Pope"  used  to  be  said  in  joke.  It  was  now 
proved  to  be  a  fact  in  good  earnest.  The  idea  got  abroad 
that  in  some  way  or  another  this  arrangement  would  derogate 
from  the  Queen's  authority  and  overthrow  the  national  liber- 
ties. "  Brass  money  and  wooden  shoes"  were  to  be  bronglit 
back.  The  Pope  was  to  be  installed  at  Windsor;  and  the 
worst  days  of  "  Bloody  Mary"  Avould  return.  This,  no  doubt, 
was  the  sensitiveness,  the  exaggerated  sensitiveness,  of  a  Prot- 
estant nation  alarmed  by  anything  that  looked  like  the  re- 
imposition  of  a  spiritual  autliority  it  had  thrown  off.  In  the 
panic  of  the  moment  Englishmen  totally  overlooked  the  fact 
which  subsequently  so  embarrassed  them,  that  in  Ireland  this 
same  ])arochial  and  dioce«an  system  already  prevailed, — had 
never  been  given  up.  The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Murray,  the  Cath- 
olic Archbishop  of  Dublin,  had  been  addressed  by  that  title  in 
official  Government  communications,  and  as  such  was  received 
at  court ;  yet  no  one  had  ever  discovered  that  Queen  Victoria 
was  in  danger,  or  the  fabric  of  British  power  shaken  to  its 
base.   When  nations  and  peoples  are  moved  by  panic  or  alarm, 


THE   TENANT  LEAGUE.  211 

there  is  an  end  for  the  time  to  reasoning.  There  were  men  in 
England — some  of  its  leading  statesmen — who  realized  the 
absurdity  and  consequent  mischief  of  this  "  No  Popery"  cry, 
and  who  foresaw  that  in  a  few  years  their  country,  ashamed 
of  its  foolish  fears  and  undignified  passion,  would  be  undoing 
what  it  now  was  rushing  to  do.  There  were  others  who  "  went 
with  the  stream,"  who  saw  that  from  the  palace  to  the  cottage 
the  conviction  had  spread  that  this  was  "  papal  aggression" 
and  must  at  all  hazards  be  resisted  and  punished.  The  Pre- 
mier, the  leader  of  the  Liberal  party,  in  a  letter  to  the  Bishop 
of  Durham,  gave  the  signal  for  war,  and  instantly  there 
broke  forth  all  over  the  land  such  a  storm  of  religious  fury 
and  strife  as  had  not  been  known  since  the  days  of  the  Lord 
George  Gordon  riots.  Protestant  and  Catholic  drew  apart, — ■ 
scowled  and  glowered  at  each  other;  life-long  friendships 
were  snapped  ;  neighbor  was  arrayed  against  neighbor;  each 
side  imputed  the  most  desperate  designs  to  the  other,  and 
"To  your  tents,  O  Israel !"  became  the  cry  on  all  hands. 

Here  was  a  fatal  trial  for  the  Tenant  League, — a  cruel  blow 
to  the  new  companionship  of  Protestant  and  Catholic  Irish- 
men in  effort  for  the  common  good. 

Parliament  opened  on  the  4th  of  February,  1851.  Two 
days  subsequently,  Lord  John  Russell  introduced  the  Eccle- 
siastical Titles  Bill,  rendering  the  assumption  of  territorial 
titles  by  the  Catholic  bishops  illegal,  and  punishable  with 
heavy  penalties.  On  the  14th  the  Government  were  unable 
to  command  a  majority  of  more  than  fourteen  votes  on  a 
hostile  motion  by  Mr.  Disraeli,*  and  a  "  ministerial  crisis" 

*  "  That  the  severe  distress  which  continues  to  exist  in  the  United 
Kingdom  among  that  important  class  of  her  Majestj^'s  subjects  the 
owners  and  occupiers  of  land,  and  which  is  justly  lamented  in  her 
Majesty's  speech,  renders  it  the  duty  of  ministers  to  introduce  without 
delay  such  measures  as  may  be  most  effectual  for  the  relief  thereof." 
Ayes,  267 ;  noes,  281. 


212  ^^^  IRELAND. 

ensued.  After  no  less  than  five  ineffectual  attempts  to  form 
a  new  ministry,  the  Whigs  returned  to  office  in  the  first  week 
of  March.  In  the  ensuing  session  the  Ecclesiastical  Titles 
Bill  was  passed  into  law.  During  the  whole  of  that  year  it 
was  the  one  subject  which  occupied  the  public  mind.  When 
the  Parliament  came  to  enact  punishment  for  the  new  arrange- 
ment in  England,  it  was  confronted  by  the  awkward  fact  that 
such  "  ecclesiastical  titles"  had  always  existed,  and  had  been 
always  recognized,  on  the  western  side  of  St.  George's  Chan- 
nel. What  was  to  be  done?  The  Act  of  Union  fused  the 
Irish  and  English  Protestant  Churches  into  one  indivisible 
and  indissoluble  body, — "The  United  Church  of  England 
and  Ireland."  If  it  was  an  "  aggression"  on  this  Church  to 
have  a  Catholic  bishop  of  Liverpool,  so  must  it  be  to  have  a 
Catholic  bishop  of  Cork.  Yet  what  had  the  latter  dignitary 
done  that  he  should  now  be  punished  for  using  his  lawful  and 
accustomed  designation  ?  What  had  the  Catholics  of  Ireland 
done  to  draw  down  upon  them  this  penal  law?  The  dilemma 
was  not  pleasant  for  English  legislators;  but  they  were  not 
in  a  mood  to  stop  at  trifies:  they  extended  the  act  to  Ireland! 

The  Catholic  leaders  in  the  tenant-right  movement  saw 
with  grief  that  an  issue  had  arisen  which  would  surely  dom- 
inate the  Land  question  and  would  split  North  from  South ; 
yet  throughout  all  this  time  they  manfully  held  on  to  the 
platform  on  which  Protestant  and  Catholic  had  vowed  to  unite. 
On  Friday,  the  20th  of  February,  1852,  the  Whig  ministry 
were  defeated  by  a  majority  of  eleven  on  their  Militia  Bill. 
Lord  Derby  took  office  as  head  of  a  Tory  administration, 
and  announced  that  Parliament  would  be  dissolved  in  the 
approaching  summer. 

A  shout  of  exultation  arose  in  Ireland.  Here  was  the 
opportunity  for  the  League, — the  general  election  for  which 
they  had  so  long  prayed  and  waited !  With  a  fierce  energy 
the  tenant-righters  flung  themselves  into  the  struggle.     Since 


THE  TENANT  LEAGUE.  213 

1829  no  such  desperate  efforts  had  been  put  forth.  All  the 
earthly  hopes  of  the  Irish  people  seemed  fixed  on  the  return 
of  an  honest  and  independent  Irish  party  to  Parliament,  so 
that  the  work  of  "  the  Crowbar  Brigade"  might  be  arrested 
and  tenant  homesteads  be  saved  from  confiscation  and  ruin. 
There  was  no  "  vote  by  ballot"  then ;  and  the  hapless  tenant 
who  went  against  the  landlord's  candidate  dared  certain  doom. 
As  it  turned  out,  a  civil  war  could  scarcely  have  brought 
heavier  penalties  on  the  people  than  those  which  followed 
upon  this  general  election  of  1852. 

At  the  close  of  the  polls  some  fifty  tenant-right  members 
— men  professing  allegiance  to  the  principles  of  the  League, 
and  elected  on  such  professions — were  seated  for  Irish  constit- 
uencies. In  the  first  flush  of  popular  joy  and  triumph  over 
this  result,  no  one  ventured  to  sift  the  so-called  gains  and 
speculate  how  many  of  these  men  were  sincere  and  how  many 
had  shouted  with  the  people  only  to  betray  their  confidence. 
A  goodly  stride,  however,  had  undoubtedly  been  taken  to- 
wards reforming  the  personnel  of  the  Irish  popular  repre- 
sentation. Among  the  men  who  entered  Parliament  for  the 
first  time  on  this  occasion  were  the  two  to  whose  genius  and 
abilities,  fidelity  and  devotion,  the  League  was  most  largely 
indebted, — Charles  Gavan  Duffy  and  Frederick  Lucas.  With 
them  there  also  appeared  John  Francis  Maguire,  Patrick 
M'Mahon,  Tristram  Kennedy,  Richard  Swift,  John  Brady, 
and  others  whose  names  have  since  become  more  or  less 
familiar  in  Irish  politics.  A  Liberal-Conservative,  who  had 
previously  sat  for  Harwich,  was  returned  for  the  borough  of 
Youghal,  and  is  thus  referred  to  in  the  Nation  of  the  17th 
of  July,  1852: 

"  In  Youghal,  Isaac  Butt,  the  Irishman,  has  beaten  Fortescue,  the 
son  of  an  English  Whip  peer.  "We  are  delighted  that  Mr.  Butt  sits  in 
an  Irish  seat.  Though  he  be  a  Conservative,  his  heart  is  genuinely 
Irish,  and  as  a  man  of  noble  talents  he  is  an  honor  to  his  country." 


214  J^^W  IRELAND. 

All  over  the  island  there  was  rejoicing.  Ireland,  turning 
from  theories  of  physical  force  and  insurrection,  was  now  to 
see  what  constitutional  effort  could  do.  In  August,  1852, 
the  tenant-right  movement  was  at  the  zenith  of  its  power. 
How  it  fell,  how  it  was  overthrown,  can  best  be  told  in  the 
story  which  traces  the  romantic  and  tragic  career  of  John 
Sadleir. 


CHAPTER   Xiy. 


THE    BRASS    BAND. 


The  destruction  of  the  popular  movement  of  1850-1852, 
completing  as  it  did  the  ov^erthrow  of  popular  confidence  in 
constitutional  politics,  led  to  consequences  utterly  deplorable. 
Indissolubly  associated  in  the  gloomy  memories  of  that  time 
are  the  names  of  John  Sadleir  and  AVilliam  Keogh. 

John  Sadleir  was  born  in  Tipperary  some  sixty  years  ago. 
Among  the  few  Catholic  families  of  position  in  that  county, 
the  Scullys  and  the  Sadleirs  held  a  good  place,  the  first-named 
especially,  and  in  the  last  generation  the  two  had  been  linked 
by  marriage.  At  an  early  age  young  John  was  apprenticed 
to  a  solicitor,  and  in  due  time  entered  upon  practice  in  that 
branch  of  the  law.  He  was  early  distinguished  for  abilities 
even  beyond  those  called  forth  in  his  profession,  and  for  an 
ambition  that  could  not  fail  to  lead  him  eventually  to  some 
high  position.  He  decided  to  make  for  the  great  metropolis, 
where  a  wide  field  was  open  to  such  talents  as  he  commanded. 
In  London  he  pursued  the  special  avocation  of  "parliamentary 
agent,"  and,  what  with  his  Irish  connection  and  his  masterly 
skill,  he  rose  rapidly.  He  soon  soared  higher  and  entered 
the  circles  of  finance ;  his  clear  vision  had  discerned  a  road  to 
results  it  would  have  seemed  madness  just  then  to  mention. 
His  family — the  Sadleirs  and  Scullys  and  Keatinges — were 
moneyed  men,  and  were  widely  knoAvn  as  such  throughout 
his  native  county.  Seeing  what  he  could  do  with  money  in 
the  great  world  of  London,  and  well  knowing  that  the  Irish 
banking  systems  had  not  yet  been  brougiit  to  the  doors  of  the 
people  so  as  to  tap  the  humble  hoards  of  the  farming-classes, 

215 


216  ^^TT  IRELAND. 

he  determined  to  set  up  a  local  bank ;  and  so  the  "  Tipperary 
Joint-Stock  Bank"  was  established.  It  became  a  great  suc- 
cess. Wherever  a  branch  was  set  up  it  supplanted  that  ven- 
erable institution  the  "old  stocking"  as  a  receptacle  for  savings 
or  depository  of  marriage-portions.  From  the  Shannon  to  the 
Suir,  "Sadleir's  bank"  was  regarded  with  as  much  confidence 
as  "  the  old  lady  of  Thread  needle  Street"  commands  from  her 
votaries.  Yet,  from  what  I  could  ever  learn,  it  performed 
only  half  the  functions  of  a  bank.  It  received  all ;  it  lent 
little.  John,  in  fact,  had  other  use  for  the  money  in  London 
besides  lending  it  to  Paddy  Eyan  to  buy  cattle,  or  Tom 
Dwyer  to  drain  his  land.  He  Avas  rising  hand  over  hand, 
among  the  highest  and  boldest  of  speculative  financiers.  The 
time  came  for  a  new  step  in  his  ambitious  scheme.  Public 
life  was  to  play  its  part  in  his  designs.  The  imperial  Parlia- 
ment was  to  supply  him  with  an  arena  for  distinction.  Not 
only  would  he  enter  it,  but,  determined  to  become  a  power 
therein,  he  would  surround  himself  with  a  family  band,  as 
the  nucleus  of  a  party  of  which  he  should  be  leader.  Amidst 
the  gloom  of  the  famine-years  he  found  the  opportunity  for 
effecting  this  portion  of  his  scheme.  In  the  general  election 
of  1847  he  Avas  returned  for  the  borough  of  Carlowj  his 
cousin  Robert  Keatinge  for  Waterford  County;  and  his 
cousin  Frank  Scully  for  Tipperary.  In  1850  he  occupied  an 
enviable  position.  The  reinite  of  his  wealth,  the  extent  of 
his  influence,  above  all,  the  worship  of  his  success,  was  on 
every  lip.  AVhatever  he  took  in  hand  succeeded ;  whatever 
he  touched  turned  to  gold.  He  was,  every  one  said,  one  of 
vour  eminently  practical  politicians ;  no  mere  agitator,  but  a 
man  of  sagacity  and  prudence,  whose  name  alone  guaranteed 
the  soundness  of  a  scheme  or  the  wisdom  of  a  suggestion. 
He  was  a  decided  Liberal  and  an  ardent  Catholic,  and  very 
soon  made  his  mark  among  the  Irish  members. 

Side  by  side  with  him,  in  the  same  year,  there  entered 


''THE  BRASS  BAND."  217 

Parliament,  for  the  borough  of  Athlone,  a  man  equally  re- 
markable in  his  own  way, — Mr.  Willjam  Keogh.  Although 
some  mysterious  affinity  seemed  to  bring  the  men  together, 
and  linked  them  in  a  joint  career,  they  were  dissimilar  as 
possible  in  many  respects.  Mr.  Keogh  was  a  barrister-at- 
law,  but,  unlike  Sadleir,  had  been  no  success  at  his  profes- 
sion,— though  not  for  want  of  splendid  abilities.  The  one 
man  was  a  model  of  financial  punctuality  and  business  exact- 
ness ;  the  other  certainly  was  not.  Mr.  Sadleir  was  a  man 
of  few  words,  strict  and  stern,  reserved,  and  almost  senten- 
tious; Mr.  Keogh  was  the  life  and  soul  of  every  circle  in 
which  he  moved,  ever  brimming  over  with  animal  spirits, 
full  of  bonhommie,  sparkling  with  wit,  and  abounding  with 
jovial  good  nature.  He  was  a  most  persuasive  speaker.  His 
voice  was  rich,  powerful,  and  capable  of  every  inflection. 
His  manner  was  intensely  earnest.  His  social  qualities,  his 
intellectual  gifts,  made  him  a  universal  favorite.  Yet  from 
the  very  first,  despite  his  emotional  patriotism  and  captivating 
eloquence,  there  were  people  who  doubted  his  political  sin- 
cerity. His  whole  position  and  circumstances,  to  their  minds, 
too  obviously  suggested  that  the  prize  of  public  life  for  him 
must  be  some  gift  from  the  hand  of  the  Government  adequate 
as  the  price  of  such  a  convert. 

The  outburst  of  the  "Papal  Aggression"  storm  in  England 
was  hailed  with  very  different  feelings  by  the  Sadleir  group 
and  by  the  Tenant  League  leaders.  The  latter  had  just  built 
up  a  platform  of  united  action  for  Protestant  and  Catholic 
Irishmen,  and  here  had  this  fatal  issue  come  to  rend  them 
asunder.  The  former  saw  with  joy  that  in  this  new  agitation, 
which  bade  fair  to  extinguish  the  League,  they  could  get  the 
country  completely  into  their  own  hands.  England  went 
wild  with  "No  Popery"  fanaticism;  Ireland  was  aflame  with 
alarm  and  passion.  Protestant  and  Catholic  were  daily  be- 
coming more  and  more  hopelessly  antagonized.     The  Catho- 

19 


218  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

lies  in  the  Tenant  League  strove  manfully  to  make  head 
against  the  current.  A  proposition  to  establish  a  "  Catholic 
Defence  Association"  was  openly  opposed  by  Dufiy  in  the 
Nation.  In  the  flames  of  religious  bigotry,  he  said,  the  hopes 
of  Ireland  would  perish.  Knaves  and  hypocrites,  he  de- 
clared, would  rant  and  rave  as  tremendous  Catholics,  and  lash 
the  multitude  into  madness  about  "  Our  holy  Church,"  in 
order  that  they  might  effect  the  destruction  of  a  popular 
movement  which  threatened  to  sweep  away  speculative  politi- 
cians. AVe  shall  not  serve  the  Church  the  more,  he  proph- 
esied, but  we  shall  lose  the  Land.  He  pleaded  in  vain. 
Challenged  as  the  Irish  Catholics  were  by  the  penal  legisla- 
tion of  Lord  John  Hussell's  Ecclesiastical  Titles  Bill,  it  was 
not  in  human  nature  to  lie  still  and  take  no  measures  for  de- 
fensive warfare.  John  Sadleir  and  his  party  sprang  into  the 
front  rank  of  the  Catholic  defence  movement.  The  Ecclesi- 
astical Titles  BUI  was  encountered  with  the  most  determined 
opposition.  "The  Pope's  Brass  Band,"  the  English  press 
called  the  score  of  Irish  Liberals  who  fought  the  bill  so  ve- 
hemently ;  "  the  Irish  Brigade,"  they  were  proudly  and  fondly 
designated  at  home.  Their  conduct  was  the  theme  of  praise 
by  Irish  Catholic  firesides.  Blessings  were  invoked  on  those 
devoted  dud  heroic  men,  the  brave  defenders  of  the  Catholic 
religion ;  but,  above  all,  benedictions  were  showered  on  the 
most  defiant  and  dauntless,  the  most  able  and  eloquent  of  the 
band, — Mr.  William  Keogh. 

The  obnoxious  bill  was  passed.  The  "  Brigade"  returned 
home  to  receive  a  nation's  gratitude.  A  worthless  array, 
verily,  were  they,  for  the  most  part.  Some  few,  unquestion- 
ably, were  men  of  high  principle  and  sterling  honesty ; 
others  were  mere  political  hacks,  sordid  and  selfish ;  while 
the  Sadleir  group,  skilful,  eloquent,  influential,  now  virtually 
masters  of  the  situation,  were  playing  a  bold  and  ambitious 
game. 


"  THE  BRASS  BAND."  219 

On  Tuesday,  23d  of  August,  1851,  an  aggregate  meeting 
of  the  Catholics  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  was  held  in 
the  Rotunda,  Dublin,  to  protest  against  the  Titles  Bill  and  to 
take  measures  for  Catholic  defence.  The  Most  Rev.  Dr. 
Cullen,  at  that  time  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  filled  the  chair. 
There  was  a  great  array  of  Catholic  bishops  and  clergy,  as 
well  as  of  Catholic  noblemen  and  members  of  Parliament. 
Mr.  John  Sadleir,  M.P.,  was  one  of  the  honorary  secretaries 
to  the  meeting;  his  cousin  Mr.  Vincent  Scully  was  one  of 
the  speakers,  and  Mr.  W.  Keogh,  M.P.,  was  another.  The 
latter  gentleman  delighted  the  assemblage  by  his  eloquent 
denunciation  of  the  Penal  Act,  which  had  just  received  the 
royal  assent.  He,  for  one,  would  trample  on  and  defy  the 
law.  He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  copy  of  the  new  statute, 
and,  holding  it  forth,  said,  "  I  now,  as  one  of  her  Majesty's 
counsel,  holding  the  act  of  Parliament  in  my  hand,  unhesi- 
tatingly give  his  jiroper  title  to  the  Lord  Archbishop  of 
Armagh."  He  then  went  on  to  promise  that  he  and  his 
friends  would  have  the  hostile  act  repealed  if  the  people 
of  Ireland  would  but  send  them  a  few  more  parliamentary 
colleagues,  "  We  will  have  no  terms,"  said  he,  "  with  any 
minister,  no  matter  who  he  may  be,  until  he  repeals  that  act 
of  Parliament,  and  every  other  which  places  the  Roman 
Catholic  on  a  lower  platform  than  his  Protestant  fellow- 
subject." 

Despite  the  marked  favor  which  they  had  won  from  the 
Catholic  prelates,  clergy,  and  people,  and  notwithstanding 
the  violence  of  their  protestations,  Messrs.  Sadleir  and  Keogh 
were  the  objects  of  suspicion  and  mistrust  on  the  part  of  a 
few  keen  observers  of  passing  affairs  in  Ireland.  It  was 
noted  that  Lord  Aberdeen,  Sir  James  Graham,  Mr.  Sidney 
Herbert,  Mr.  Cardwell,  and  many  leading  Peelites  had  re- 
sisted the  "  No  Popery"  scare  in  England,  and  had  fought 
against  the  Titles  Bill  in  Parliament.     Among  these  states- 


220  ^'^^^  IRELAND. 

men,  accurately  enougli,  some  persons  saw  a  possible  cabinet 
of  the  future,  and  already  some  idea  that  the  Sadleir  group 
were  operating  in  view  of  such  a  contingency  was  whispered 
about.  A  base  calumny,  a  cruel  suspicion,  an  assassin  stab, 
Mr.  Keogh  proclaimed  it  to  be.  The  three  leading  popular 
journalists  of  Ireland — Mr.  Duffy,  of  the  Nation,  Dr.  Gray, 
of  the  Freeman,  and  Mr.  Lucas,  of  the  Tablet — were  very 
plainly  imbued  with  some  such  conviction,  and  between  them 
and  the  Sadleir  party  a  deadly  dislike  smouldered.  The 
latter,  however,  were  the  popular  idols  of  the  hour.  On  the 
28th  of  October,  1851,  Mr.  Keogh  was  entertained  by  his 
constituents  at  a  public  banquet,  which  partook  rather  of  the 
character  of  a  national  demonstration.  No  hall  in  Athlone 
was  large  enough  to  accommodate  the  gathering,  which  was 
held  in  a  huge  pavilion,  erected,  I  believe,  on  the  cathedral 
grounds.  The  guest  of  the  evening,  after  an  effusive 
eulogium  on  Archbishop  McHale,  who  was  present,  alluded 
to  the  insinuations  above  referred  to.  In  language  the 
earnestness  and  solemnity  of  which  touched  every  heart  he 
repelled  them.  "  Whigs  or  Tories,"  said  he,  "  Peelites  or 
Protectionists,  are  all  the  same  to  me.  I  will  fight  for  my 
religion  and  my  country,  scorning  and  defying  calumny.  I 
declare,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  before  this  august  assem- 
bly, I  shall  not  regard  any  party.  I  know  that  the  road  I 
take  does  not  lead  to  preferment.  I  do  not  belong  to  the 
Whigs ;  I  do  not  belong  to  the  Tories.  Here,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  my  constituents  and  my  country, — and  I  hope  I  am 
not  so  base  a  man  as  to  make  an  avowal  Avhich  could  be  con- 
tradicted to-morrow  if  I  was  capable  of  doing  that  which  is 
insinuated  against  me, — I  solemnly  declare  if  there  was  a 
Peelite  administration  in  office  to-morrow  it  would  be  nothing 
to  me.  I  will  not  support  any  party  which  does  not  make 
it  the  first  ingredient  of  their  political  existence  to  repeal  the 
Ecclesiastical  Titles  Act."    In  like  solemn  manner  he  pledged 


''THE  BRASS  BAND.''  221 

his  troth  that  he  would  oppose,  or  not  support,  any  party 
which  did  not  undertake  to  settle  the  Land  question  and 
abolish  the  Established  Church.  Finally,  he  turned  at  the 
Irish  landlords,  whom  he  denounced  as  "  a  heartless  aristoc- 
racy,"— "  the  most  heartless,  the  most  thriftless,  and  the  most 
indefensible  landocracy  on  the  face  of  the  earth." 

Those  who  were  present  say  that  no  one  who  heard  the 
speaker,  and  looked  into  his  face,  as,  glowing  with  indigna- 
tion, he  made  these  protestations,  could  have  been  so  unfeeling 
as  to  doubt  him.  Doubted,  nay,  openly  denounced,  he  and 
the  rest  of  the  Sadleir  following  nevertheless  were  in  the 
Nation  and  Tablet,  Lucas  and  Duffy  having  thus  early 
received  some  private  proofs  that  the  Brigade  meant  to  be 
in  the  market  on  the  first  favorable  opportunity.  Early  in 
1852  a  vacancy  occurred  in  Cork  County,  and  another  of  Mr. 
Sadleir's  cousins,  Mr.  V.  Scully,  appeared  as  a  candidate. 
The  more  honest  and  keen-sigiited  of  the  Tenant  League 
party  in  the  locality  did  not  take  very  kindly  to  him,  but  Mr. 
Keogh  went  down  specially  to  campaign  for  him,  and  the 
full  strength  of  the  Sadleir  party  was  put  forth.  There  was 
a  public  meeting  in  Cork  city  on  the  8th  of  March,  1852,  to 
consider  the  merits  of  the  Liberal  candidates,  and  JNIr.  Mc- 
Carthy Downing, — whose  public  influence,  in  at  all  events 
the  West  Riding,  was  admitted  to  be  paramount, — seeing  Mr. 
Keogh  present,  boldly  ''  belled  the  cat"  as  follows : 

"  I  will  tell  the  meeting  fairly  and  honestly  that  I  believe  the  Irish 
Brigade  are  not  sincere  advocates  of  the  tenant-right  question.  I  state 
that,  and  I  believe  it  is  in  the  presence  of  two  of  them.  I  attended  two 
great  meetings  in  the  Music  Hall  in  Dublin,  at  the  inauguration  of  the 
Tenant  League,  at  my  own  expense,  when  a  deputation  waited  upon  the 
Brigade  to  attend  the  meeting,  and  I  protest  I  never  saw  a  beast  drawn 
to  the  slaughter-house  by  the  butcher  to  receive  the  knife  with  more 
difficulty  than  there  was  in  bringing  to  that  meeting  the  members  of 
the  Irish  Brigade." 

Then  up  rose  Mr.  Keogh ;  and  never,  perhaps,  were  his 

19* 


222  JV^STF  IRELAND. 

marvellous  gifts  more  requisite  than  at  this  critical  moment. 
The  future  fate  and  fortunes  of  his  leader  and  party  hung  on 
the  turn  affairs  might  take  at  this  meeting,  an  open  challenge 
and  public  charge  having  been  thus  flung  down  against  them. 
There  were  a  few  hostile  cries  when  he  stood  up ;  but  silence 
was  after  a  while  obtained.  With  flushed  countenance  and 
heaving;  breast,  he  burst  forth  in  these  words : 

"  Great  God  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  in  this  assemblage  of  Irish- 
men have  you  found  that  those  who  are  most  ready  to  take 
every  pledge  have  been  the  most  sincere  in  perseverance  to  the 
end,  or  have  you  not  rather  seen  that  they  who,  like  myself, 
went  into  Parliament  perfectly  unpledged,  not  supported  by 
the  popular  voice,  but  in  the  face  of  popular  acclaim,  when 
tlie  time  for  trial  comes  are  not  found  wanting?  I  declared 
myself  in  the  presence  of  the  bishops  of  Ireland,  and  of  my 
colleagues  in  Parliament,  that  let  the  minister  of  the  day  be 
who  he  may — let  him  be  the  Earl  of  Derby,  let  him  be  Sir 
James  Graham,  or  Lord  John  Russell — it  was  all  the  same  to 
us;  and  so  help  me  God,  no  matter  who  the  minister  may  be, 
no  matter  who  the  party  in  power  may  be,  I  will  support 
neither  that  minister  nor  that  party,  unless  he  comes  into 
power  prepared  to  carry  the  measures  which  universal  popular 
Ireland  demands.  I  have  abandoned  my  own  profession  to 
join  in  cementing  and  forming  an  Irish  parliamentary  party. 
That  has  been  my  ambition.  It  may  be  a  base  one,  I  think 
it  an  honorable  one.  I  have  seconded  the  proposition  of  Mr. 
Sharman  Crawford  in  the  House  of  Commons.  I  have  met 
the  minister  upon  it  to  the  utmost  extent  of  my  limited  abili- 
ties, at  a  moment  when  disunion  was  not  expected.  So  help 
me  God  !  upon  that  and  every  other  question  to  which  I  have 
given  my  adhesion,  I  will  be — and  I  know  I  may  say  that 
every  one  of  my  friends  is  as  determined  as  myself — an  un- 
flinching, undeviating,  unalterable  supporter  of  it." 

No  wonder  the  assemblage  that  had  listened  as  if  spell- 


''THE  BRASS  BAND."  223 

bound  while  he  spoke,  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  Avith  vocifer- 
ous cheering  atoned  for  the  previous  doubts  of  the  man  whose 
oath  had  now  sealed  his  public  principles.  Alas  !  barely  nine 
months  later  on  he  went  over  bodily  to  the  minister  of  the 
day,  and  took  office  under  an  administration  which  neither 
repealed  the  Titles  Act,  abolished  the  Established  Church, 
nor  settled  the  Land  question  ! 

John  Sadleir  had  marked  well  the  power  wielded  against 
him  by  Duffy,  Gray,  and  Lucas  in  the  metropolitan  press. 
The  opposition  of  the  Nation,  the  Freeman,  and  the  Tablet 
alone  seemed  to  stand  between  him  and  the  complete  com- 
mand of  Irish  popular  politics.  The  Catholic  bishops, 
almost  to  a  man,  and  the  great  majority  of  the  priests,  be- 
lieved confidently  in  him  and  Mr.  Keogh,  and  regarded  the 
suggested  suspicions  or  open  imputations  of  the  Nation  and 
Tablet  as  the  mischievous  hostility  of  extreme  and  violent 
politicians.  Still,  it  was  highly  dangerous  for  him  to  go 
forward  with  these  three  fortresses  unreduced  on  his  flank. 
He  determined  to  silence  them  effectually, — to  destroy  them. 
By  this  time  he  had  become  almost  a  millionaire.  Fifty 
thousand  pounds  flung  boldly  into  the  establishment  of  op- 
position journals  would  soon  dispose  of  the  Nation,  Tablet, 
and  Freeman.  Ere  long  Dublin  rang  with  the  news  that  a 
gigantic  newspaper  scheme  was  being  launched,  "  regardless 
of  expense,"  by  Mr.  Sadleir.  The  leader  of  the  Irish  Bri- 
gade, the  Defender  of  the  Church,  the  man  of  success,  had 
now  decided  to  break  ground  in  a  new  direction,  and  estab- 
lish a  real,  genuine,  orthodox  Catholic  press  for  the  million. 
Commodious  premises  were  taken ;  powerful  machinery  and 
extensive  plant  were  purchased;  and  an  editor,  who  was  given 
out  to  be  a  sort  of  lay  pontiff,  Mr.  William  Bernard  McCabe, 
was  brought  over  from  London.  The  new  weekly,  called 
the  Weekly  Telegraph,  was  first  to  clear  the  ground  of  the  Na- 
tion and  Tablet,  before  the  new  daily  tackled  the  Freeman. 


224  iV^^TF  IRELAND. 

Perhaps  ere  that  time  Dr.  Gray,  intimidated  by  the  beggary 
brought  on  Duffy  and  Lucas,  would  knock  under  to  the  great 
power  of  Sadleirism.     If  not,  he  too  coukl  be  mopped  out. 

Never  was  there  a  more  daring  and  comprehensive  design 
to  bring  the  whole  popular  opinion  and  political  influence  of 
a  country  into  the  grasp  of  one  bold  and  ambitious  man. 

The  Telegraph  was  issued  at  half  the  price  of  the  existing 
Catholic  weeklies, — threepence ;  and,  as  money  was  literally 
lavished  on  its  production  and  dissemination,  it  went  broad- 
cast through  the  land.  It  pandered  to  the  fiercest  bigotry. 
Its  "catholicity"  was  of  that  bellicose  and  extravagant  char- 
acter which  was  deemed  best  calculated  at  a  time  of  such 
wide-spread  religious  animosities  to  delight  and  excite  the 
masses.  It  swept  the  island.  It  penetrated  into  hamlets  and 
homes  where  the  Nation  or  the  Tablet  had  never  been  seen. 
The  editor,  a  gentleman  of  great  ability,  contrived  to  make 
his  readers  believe  that  the  Pope  and  John  Sadleir  were  the 
two  great  authorities  of  the  Catholic  Church :  one  was  its 
infallible  head,  the  other  its  invincible  defender.  But  those 
bad  Catholics,  Duffy  and  Lucas,  were  thwarting  the  noble 
efforts  of  ]\Ir.  Sadleir  and  his  devoted  colleagues  to  serve  the 
Church ;  as  for  Gray,  of  the  Freeman.,  he  was  a  heretic,  and 
nothing  but  evil  could  emanate  from  him.  The  newspaper 
move  of  the  banker-politician,  however,  Avas  a  little  over- 
reaching. It  set  a  great  many  persons  a  thinking,  and 
alarmed  not  a  few.  As  for  the  Nation  and  Tablet,  they  bore 
the  shock  of  attack  bravely  in  spirit,  but  neither  proprietor 
had  a  bank  at  his  back,  and  both  journals  were  almost  fatally 
crippled  in  the  unequal  struggle. 

In  the  spring  of  1852 — on  the  2d  of  April — the  Most 
Rev.  Dr.  Cullen,  for  a  short  time  previously  Archbishop  of 
Armagh,  Avas,  by  the  all  but  unanimous  vote  of  the  clergy, 
nominated  for  the  archbishopric  of  Dublin.  The  nomination 
was  cordially  approved  at  Rome,  and  there  entered  on  his 


''THE  BRASS  BAND."  225 

new  sphere  of  duties  a  man  who  has  ever  since  played  an  im- 
portant part  in  Irish  affairs.  He  had  spent  the  greater  part 
of  his  clerical  life  in  Italy,  and  for  many  years  had  been 
Rector  of  the  Irish  College  in  Rome.  He  early  gained  the 
special  confidence  and  favor  of  Cardinal  Barnabo,  Prefect  of 
the  Propaganda,  and  was  very  warmly  esteemed  by  Pio  Nono 
himself.  His  manhood  was  largely  passed,  his  principles 
were  formed,  in  an  atmosphere  quite  unlike  that  of  Ireland. 
In  Italy  popular  politics  and  national  aspirations  were  made 
synonymous  with  principles  and  designs  very  naturally  ab- 
horrent to  him.  All  the  bent  of  his  mind  was  with  authority, 
and  against  resistance  to  the  constituted  powers.  He  had 
seen  the  evil  work  which  revolutionism  had  wrought  else- 
where, and  there  was  but  the  one  safe  road,  he  thought,  for 
him  to  take, — namely,  to  beware  of  all  who  inclined  to  tumult, 
violence,  or  sedition,  and  to  side  with  those  who  put  the  in- 
terests of  the  Catholic  religion  before  and  beyond  every  other. 
There  never  entered  upon  the  duties  of  such  an  important 
position  as  his  a  man  more  single-minded,  more  devoid  of 
personal  ambition  or  thought  of  self,  more  wholly  wrapped 
in  the  one  great  purpose  of  advancing  the  interests  of  the 
Church.  He  was  a  stern  disciplinarian,  and  it  soon  became 
evident  that  he  had  been  chosen  at  Rome  for  a  great  and  far- 
reaching  purpose  of  disciplinary  transformation  in  Irish  Cath- 
olic affairs.  Self-denying  himself,  he  expected  self-denial 
from  all  who  served  the  altar;  obedient,  full  of  reverence  for 
authority,  he  considered  obedience  the  first  duty  of  a  cleric. 
He  might  have  been  one  of  the  early  Fathers,  transferred 
from  the  fifth  to  the  nineteenth  century.  His  cold  exterior, 
his  passionless  manner,  his  severe  ideas  of  authority  and  dis- 
cipline, did  not  fit  well  the  Irish  character,  customs,  and  habits. 
He  was  more  Roman  than  Irish,  and  his  design  of  bringing 
the  Irish  Church  into  stricter  conformity  to  the  Roman  model 
necessarily  invaded  many  old  feelings  and  incurred  for  him 


226  ^EW  IRELAND. 

not  a  few  conflicts  among  the  Irish  clergy.  "A  gloomy 
fanatic,"  "a  narrow-minded  churchman,"  the  ultra-Protestant 
journals  early  declared  him  to  be ;  and  even  his  own  people, 
owing  to  the  stern  gravity  of  his  manner  and  the  austerity  of 
his  piety,  regarded  him  more  with  respectful  awe  than  warm 
affection.  Yet  in  all  this  only  one  side  of  his  character  was 
read,  and  justice  was  not  done  his  inner  nature,  which  was 
kindly,  and  often  generous.  He  could  unbend  betimes,  and 
few  could  exhibit  a. readier  appreciation  for  genuine  wit  or 
humor.*  Yet  a  certain  air  of  reserve  and  monasticism  always 
surrounded  him ;  and  one  could  see  that  he  looked  out  on  all 
the  world  from  the  stand-point  of  a  churchman. 


*  Many  stories  circulate  in  Dublin,  some  of  questionable  authenticity, 
as  to  his  adventures  in  those  early  reforming  days.  He  resided  for  some 
time  with  the  parochial  clergy  in  the  presbytery  attached  to  the  pro- 
cathedral  in  Marlborough  Street.  He  soon  established  a  rule  that  every 
one  not  on  sick-visitation  duty  should  be  within-doors  by  ten  o'clock  at 
night.  The  ten-o'clock  rule  was  by  degrees  a  little  infringed,  whenever 
the  curates  were  spending,  as  was  their  wont,  an  evening  with  some 
friendly  family  in  the  neighborhood.  The  archbishop  imagined  he  oc- 
casionally heard  footsteps  creeping  cautiously  up-stairs  long  after  "  ten 
o'clock,"  and  one  evening,  to  the  consternation  of  the  reverend  father 
whose  turn  it  was  to  lock  up,  he  announced  his  intention  of  perform- 
ing this  duty  himself.  "Go  up  to  bed,  Father  John,"  said  he,  in 
tones  of  sympathy  :  "  you  look  a  little  fatigued.  I'll  wait  for  whoever 
is  out."  In  vain  Father  John  declared  he  was  not  tired;  in  fact, 
he  felt  quite  fresh,  so  to  speak,  and  waiting  up  a  little  would  do  him 
all  the  good  in  the  world.  The  archbishop  would  have  his  way ;  and 
Father  John  went  off  to  his  room  muttering  of  the  catastrophe  that 
awaited  two  of  his  friends  who  were  sure  not  to  be  in  before  eleven.  It 
was  past  this  hour  when  they  tapped  softly  at  the  big  door,  which  was 
cautiously  opened  from  within.  One  of  them,  putting  in  his  head,  in- 
quired in  a  whisper,  "  Is  Paul  in  bed  ?"  "  No,"  said  the  archbishop  in 
a  similar  whisper,  "he's  here."  Laughing  heartily  at  their  confusion, 
he  let  them  in,  locked  the  door,  and,  wishing  them  good-night,  told  them 
to  go  to  bed.  To  their  amazement,  the  archbishop  next  morning  acted 
as  if  the  incident  had  never  occurred  ;  and  when  at  length  the  story  got 
about,  none  enjoyed  it  more  mirthfully  than  he  did. 


''THE  BRASS  BAND.''  227 

Dr.  Cullen  almost  inevitably  gravitated  towards  the  Sad- 
leir  party  as  the  special  champions  of  the  Church,  and  away 
from  those  who  looked  to  such  a  dangerous  paper  as  the  Na- 
tion for  guidance.  He  knew  what  "Young  Italy"  meant; 
and  "  Young  Ireland"  lie  believed  to  be  an  imitation  of  the 
Italian  party.  Nor  was  he  without  grounds  for  such  an  im- 
pression. The  waiters  in  the  Nation  at  one  time  warmly 
wrote  up  Mazzini  and  his  co-laborers  of  the  Carbonari, — a 
position,  however,  soon  after  publicly  and  emphatically  aban- 
doned by  Mr.  Duffy  and  repudiated  by  his  successors.  Still, 
it  Avas  not  difficult  for  Mr.  Sadleir's  ecclesiastical  friends  to 
persuade  the  new  archbishop  that  the  men  who  preferred  a 
Tenant  League  to  a  Catholic  Defence  Association,  and  who 
advocated  a  union  of  Protestants  and  Catholics  in  public 
affairs,  were  the  heterodox  ]>arty ;  while  Messrs.  Sadleir  and 
Keoffh  were  the  friends  of  order  and  the  defenders  of  religion. 
In  the  events  which  were  now  at  hand,  this  attitude  of  the 
Catholic  archbishop  of  Dublin  was  of  decisive  importance. 

Parliament  was  dissolved  on  the  1st  of  July,  and  the  efforts 
of  the  past  six  months  culminated  on  the  hustings.  There 
W'ere  four  parties  engaged  in  the  combat :  the  Tories, — who 
fought  "solid,"  as  they  always  do;  the  Whigs;  the  Tenant 
Leaguers;  and  tiie  Catholic  Defenders.  In  several  places 
the  latter  two  came  into  open  conflict;  and  generally  it  was 
evident  that  the  Whigs,  the  Catholic  Defence  people,  and  the 
Brigade  men  Avere  one  and  the  same  party.  Nevertheless, 
when  the  lists  M'ere  closed,  it  was  found  that  the  Leaguers 
had  virtually  carried  the  island.  No  Catholic  Defence  Whig 
was  able  to  secure  his  return  without  taking  the  Tenant- 
Right  pledge ;  while  in  nearly  every  place  the  League  candi- 
dates triumphed.  Their  only  important  defeat  was  in  Mona- 
ghan,  where  Dr.  Gray  was  narrowly  beaten.  Frederick 
Lucas  was  returned  for  INIeath,  Gavan  Duffy  for  New  Ross, 
John  Francis  Maguire  for  Dungarvan,  and,  above  all  in  im- 


228  iV^J^JF  IRELAND. 

portance,  George  Henry  Moore,  a  member  of  tlie  dissolved 
Parliament,  already  marked  out  as  a  master  of  men  in  the 
popular  ranks,  was  again  elected  for  Mayo.  On  the  other 
hand,  Mr.  Sadleir  and  his  three  cousins,  Frank  and  Vincent 
Scully  and  Robert  Keatinge,  were  re-elected ;  so  was  Mr. 
Keogh  ;  and  Mr.  Sadleir's  brother  James  came  in  for  Tip- 
perary ;  all  finding  it  requisite  to  hoist  the  Tenant-Right 
colors  beside  the  misused  papal  banner  which  they  waved  in 
the  people's  eyes.  It  was  in  the  course  of  this  campaign  that 
Mr.  Keogh,  addressing  a  mob  in  AVestmeath,  in  the  interest 
of  his  friend  Captain  Magan,  delivered  a  speech  containing 
at  least  one  suggestion  which  listening  Ribbonmen  were  not 
likely  to  forget.  "  Boys,"  said  he,  "  the  days  are  now  long 
and  the  nights  are  short.  In  winter  the  days  will  be  short 
and  the  nights  will  be  long;  and  then  let  every  one  remem- 
ber who  voted  for  Sir  Richard  Levinge."  * 

But,  though  Mr.  Keogh  was  the  man  who  figured  most 
before  the  public,  the  unseen  Yon  Moltke  of  the  whole  scheme 
was  John  Sadleir.  Already  he  saw  victory  at  hand.  The 
result  o  '  the  general  elections  gave  a  narrow  majority  to  the 
Liberal  party.  The  Tories  could  not  hold  office.  The  Rus- 
sell Whigs,  without  the  Irish  vote,  were  equally  powerless. 
A  coalition  ministry — embracing  the  Peelite  Conservatives 
and  anti-Ecclesiastical  Titles  Bill  Liberals — was  the  only 
possible  administration.  Already  in  imagination  the  banker- 
politician  grasped  a  coronet  as  the  price  of  the  Irish  Brigade! 

In  Ireland  the  joy  of  the  people  over  the  return  of  so  large 
an  array  of  Tenant-Right  members  was  unbounded.  It  was 
for  Gavan  Duffy,  especially,  a  shol't-lived  triumph  over  his 
assailants  of  the  revolutionary  school.     A  faithful  and  inde- 

*  Mr.  Keogh  subsequently  declared  he  had  no  recollection  whatever 
of  this  ;  and  a  special  friend  of  his  was  adduced  who  "  did  not  hear  it;" 
but  several  affidavits  or  declarations  were  quoted  by  Lord  Eglintoun 
from  persons  who  were  present  and  heard  the  words. 


''THE  BRASS  BAND."  229 

pendent  band  of  representatives,  he  declared,  would  be  worth 
more  to  Ireland  in  her  existing  condition  than  armies  in  the 
tented  field.  It  did  seem  as  if  the  Irish  people  had  settled 
down  at  last  to  the  design  of  fighting  out  their  political  issues 
with  the  weapons  of  the  franchise  and  the  forces  of  public 
opinion. 

On  Wednesday,  8th  of  September,  1852,  a  general  confer- 
ence of  Irish  members  of  Parliament  favorable  to  tenant- 
right,  convened  by  the  League,  was  held  in  Dublin.  Every 
Liberal  member  sitting  for  an  Irish  seat,  with  one  or  two 
exceptions,  was  present ;  forty  in  all.  The  following  resolu- 
tion as  the  basis  of  their  future  parliamentary  policy  and 
action  was  adopted  with  but  one*  dissentient  voice : 

"  Resolved,  That  in  the  opinion  of  this  conference  it  is  essential  to  the 
proper  management  of  this  cause  that  the  members  of  Parliament  who 
have  been  returned  on  tenant-right  principles  should  hold  themselves 
perfectly  independent  of,  and  in  opposition  to,  all  Governments  which 
do  not  make  it  part  of  their  policy,  and  a  Cabinet  question,  to  give  to 
the  tenantry  of  Ireland  a  measure  embodying  the  principles  of  Mr.  Shar- 
man  Crawford's  bill." 

On  the  4th  of  November,  1852,  the  new  Parliament 
opened.  At  4  a.m.,  Friday,  17th  of  December,  the  Derby 
Government  was  defeated  in  the  Commons  by  a  majority  of 
nineteen.  On  the  20th  ministers  resigned,  and  Lord  Aber- 
deen was  called  upon  to  form  a  Cabinet. 

A  shout  went  up  from  Ireland.  A  thrill  of  the  wildest 
excitement  shook  the  island  from  the  centre  to  the  sea. 
Now  joy  and  triumph,  now  torturing  doubt,  now  the  very 
agony  of  suspense,  prevailed.  What  would  the  Irish  party 
do  ?  Here  was  the  crisis  which  was  to  shame  their  oaths  or 
prove  them  true.  No  Liberal  or  composite  administration 
was  possible  without  them,  and   their  demand  was  one  no 

*  Mr.  Burke  Roche,  afterwards  Lord  Fermo3^ 
20 


230  ^-EJf^  IRELAND. 

minister  had  ever  denied  to  be  just.  What  would  the  Irish 
members  do?  The  fate  of  the  new  ministry,  the  fate  of 
Ireland,  was  in  their  hands. 

As  terrible  deeds  are  said  to  be  sometimes  preceded  by  a 
mysterious  apprehension,  so  in  the  last  week  of  that  old  year 
a  vague  gloom  chilled  every  heart.  The  news  from  London 
was  panted  for,  hour  by  hour.  At  length  the  blow  fell. 
Tidings  of  treason  and  disaster  came.  The  Brigade  was 
sold  to  Lord  Aberdeen !  John  Sadleir  was  Lord  of  the 
Treasury !  William  Keogh  was  Irish  Solicitor-General ! 
Edmond  O'Flaherty  was  Commissioner  of  Income-Tax ! 
And  so  on. 

The  English  people,  fortunately  accustomed  for  centuries 
to  exercise  the  functions  of  political  life,  may  well  be  unable 
to  comprehend  the  paralysis  which  followed  this  blow  in  Ire- 
land. The  merchant  of  many  ships  may  bear  with  composure 
the  wreck  of  one.  But  here  was  an  argosy  freighted  with  the 
last  and  most  precious  hopes  of  a  people  already  on  the  verge 
of  ruin  and  despair,  scuttled  before  their  eyes  by  the  men  who 
had  called  on  the  Most  High  God  to  witness  their  fidelity. 
The  Irish  tenantry  had  played  their  last  stake,  and  lost.  A 
despairing  stupor  like  to  that  of  the  famine-time  shrouded  the 
land.  Notices  to  quit  fell  "  like  snow-flakes"  all  over  the 
counties  where  the  hapless  farmers  had  "  refused  the  land- 
lord" and  voted  for  a  Brigadier.  But  the  banker-politician 
had  won.  His  accustomed  success  had  attended  him.  He 
was  not  as  yet  a  peer ;  but  he  was  a  Treasury  Lord.  From 
their  seat  on  the  Treasury  bench,  he  and  his  conn'ade,  "  the 
Solicitor-General,"  could  smile  calmly  at  the  accusing  coun- 
tenances of  Duffy  and  Moore  and  Lucas.  The  New  Year's 
chimes  rang  in  the  triumph  of  John  Sadleir's  daring  ambition. 
Did  no  dismal  minor  tone,  like  mournful  funeral  knell, 
presage  the  sequel  that  was  now  so  near  at  hand  ? 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE   SUICIDE    BANKER. 


Side  by  side  with  the  political  movements  and  events  that 
landed  Mr.  Sadleir  on  the  Treasury  bench,  financial  schemes 
of  the  most  ambitious  character  had  occupied  his  mind.  He 
early  noted  how  fortunes  might  be  made  out  of  the  ruin  of 
Irish  landed  proprietors  in  the  Encumbered  Estates  Court. 
He  got  up  a  "  Land  Company"  to  purchase  the  properties 
just  then  being  sold  at  from  seven  to  thirteen  years'  rental, 
with  a  view  to  reselling  them  subsequently  at  the  advance 
which  he  knew  would  take  place.  ,  His  connection  with  the 
Tipperary  Bank  brought  him  into  association  with  the  mag- 
nates of  Lombard  Street ;  and  ere  long  he  was  chairman  of 
the  London  and  County  Joint-Stock  Bank.  Higher,  still 
higher,  grew  his  aims,  bolder  and  more  daring  his  schemes 
and  speculations.  He  was  in  Italian,  American,  and  Spanish 
railways.  He  was. deep  in  iron;  and  at  one  time,  it  is  said, 
he  owned  ev^ery  cargo  of  sugar  in  port  or  at  sea  between 
England  and  the  Indies. 

Amidst  the  hoarse  roar  of  denunciation  which  hailed  the 
desertion  of  the  Brigade  to  Lord  Aberdeen's  camp,  there 
came  the  bold  assurances  of  the  Weekly  Telegraj^h  that  all 
was  right.  Nay,  virtuous  indignation  was  manifested  at  the 
injustice  of  condemning  those  gentlemen  before  their  expla- 
nation had  been  heard.  They  were  in  no  hurry  to  offer  any ; 
but  substantially  their  story  was  this  :  "  Lord  Aberdeen  had 
not  repealed  the  Titles  Act,  nor  undertaken  to  do  so ;  but  he 
is  the  Catholic's  friend.  He  fought  against  the  '  No  Popery' 
penal  legislators ;  he  is  on  terms  of  respect  and  regard  with 

231 


232  ^^^  IRELAND. 

our  bisliops.  He  has  not  passed  a  tenant-right  bill,  nor 
undertaken  to  do  so ;  but  he  wishes  the  cause  well,  and  will 
probably  deal  with  the  question.  To  oppose  such  a  man  we 
should  act  side  by  side  with  our  deadly  enemies,  the  Tories. 
His  accession  to  power  is  the  virtual  defeat  of  Lord  John 
Russell,  who  passed  the  Titles  Bill,  and  of  Lord  Derby,  who 
assisted  it." 

The  Tenant  League  was  rent  in  twain  by  the  Sadleir  de- 
fection. Not  merely  the  League,  the  country  at  large,  was 
split  into  fiercely-hostile  parties,  one  making  the  heavens 
resound  with  execrations  of  the  forsworn  Brigadiers,  the 
other  as  stormily  defending  them. 

At  this  point  of  Irish  political  history  the  political  influence 
and  authority  of  the  Catholic  bishops  received  a  shock  which 
has  considerably  influenced  Irish  affairs  down  to  the  present 
day. 

Mr.  Sadleir  and  Mr.  Keogh  had  of  course  to  present  them- 
selves for  re-election  in  their  boroughs  of  Carlow  and  Athlone. 
The  Leaguers  flung  themselves  with  energy  into  the  work  of 
defeating  them.  In  both  places  it  was  found  that  the  Catholic 
prelates  and  clergy  supported  the  Brigade  leaders.  This  news 
created  consternation.  A  deputation,  consisting  of  Frederick 
Lucas,  M.P.,  Geo.  H.  Moore,  M.P.,  Rev.  T.  O'Shea,  CC, 
and  Rev.  Dr.  Kearney,  P.P.,  on  the  part  of  the  Tenant 
League,  proceeded  to  Carlow  to  oppose  Mr.  Sadleir.  The 
local  clergy  denounced  them  as  intruders,  and  they  had  to 
quit  the  town.  It  was  still  worse  at  Athlone,  where  every 
one  was  overjoyed  at  Mr.  Keogh's  good  fortune.  Stunned, 
alarmed  at  the  probable  effects  of  this  approval  of  a  disre- 
gard for  public  obligations,  the  League  leaders  appealed  to  the 
Catholic  bishops  and  clergy  of  Ireland  to  speak  out  promptly 
and  say  was  it  conducive  to  public  morality  that  pledges 
so  solemnly  and  explicitly  made  to  the  people  should  be 
violated  on  the  first  opportunity  with  the  sanction  of  Catholic 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  233 

ecclesiastics.  From  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  MacHale,  Archbishop 
of  Tuam,  came  a  ready  and  emphatic  response.  Standing  as 
he  did  at  the  head  of  the  Irish  episcopacy  in  political  weight 
and  influence,  it  was  not  unnaturally  expected  that  a  pro- 
nouncement from  "  the  Lion  of  the  Fold  of  Judah/'  as 
O'Connell  had  designated  him,  would  have  been  accepted  as 
decisive.  No  Catholic  prelate  in  Ireland  had  filled  so  large 
a  place  as  he  in  Irish  affairs  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century  ;  none  at  all  approached  him  in  popularity.  He  had 
been  fondly  looked  up  to  by  the  Irish  Catholic  millions  as 
an  episcoj)al  O'Connell, — a  guide  who  was  "always  right," 
a  champion  whom  nothing  could  dismay.  He  addressed  a 
public  letter  to  Mr.  G.  H.  Moore,  M.P.,  on  the  question  of 
the  day,  "  as  a  clear  case  of  conscience,  which,  when  stripped 
of  all  other  relations  of  policy,  or  expediency  or  private  in- 
terest, or  prophecies  of  increased  good,  or  probabilities  of 
qualified  evil,  with  which  it  is  sought  to  obscure  and  confound 
it,  is  too  clear  for  debate  or  conflicting  decisions."  Then  he 
went  on  to  say, — 

"  On  the  strict  and  religious  obligation  of  fidelity  to  such  covenants 
there  can  be  no  controversy, — an  obligation  the  more  sacred  and  binding 
in  proportion  to  the  numbers  committed  to  such  engagement,  and  to  the 
magnitude  and  sacredness  of  the  interests  which  they  involve.  Dissolve 
the  binding  power  of  such  contracts,  and  you  loosen  the  firmest  bonds 
by  which  society  is  kept  together." 

The  Catholic  bishops  of  Meath  and  Killala  expressed 
themselves  to  a  like  effect.  But  at  the  points  of  critical  im- 
portance, in  the  boroughs  Avhere  the  rejection  of  the  Brigade 
leaders  might  have  had  a  telling  effect  on  the  controversy,  it 
happened,  fortunately  for  them,  that  the  local  bishops  endorsed 
their  course.  This  conflict  between  ecclesiastical  authorities 
on  a  grave  question  of  public  morality  greatly  scandalized  the 
people.  Every  one  looked  for  a  declaration  from  the  new 
Archbishop  of  Dublin,  the  Papal  Legate.    None  came.    Soou 

20* 


234  ^V£ir  IRELAND. 

his  silence  received  a  dark  construction.  His  uncle,  the  Rev. 
James  Maher,  P.P.,  was  one  of  Mr.  Sadleir's  strongest  sup- 
porters in  Carlow ;  and  it  became  manifest  that  Dr.  Cullen's 
influence,  in  Ireland  and  at  Rome,  was  certain  to  be  given, 
negatively  or  positively,  on  the  side  of  Lord  Aberdeen.  This 
Mas  partly  his  own  judgment  on  things  as  they  presented 
themselves  to  his  view.  But  there  was  a  whisper  at  the  time 
of  rather  curious  negotiations  privately  pushed  between  Lon- 
don, Vienna,  and  Rome,  as  to  the  claims  of  the  new  Premier 
on  "  the  Catholic  vote"  in  the  House  of  Commons ;  and  these 
stories,  rightly  or  wrongly,  were  connected  with  the  attitude 
which  Dr.  Cullen  assumed  in  the  subsequent  events.  It 
seemed  for  a  moment  as  if  almost  a  schism  would  ensue  in 
the  Irish  Catholic  Church  over  the  issue  thus  precipitated. 
An  open  war  raged  between  the  sections  of  the  clergy  and 
people  who  ranged  themselves  under  the  banners  of  Dr.  ]\Iac- 
Hale  and  Dr.  Cullen  respectively.  The  latter  maintained  a 
severe  silence,  but  he  might  as  well  have  openly  espoused  the 
cause  of  Mr.  Sadleir  and  Mr.  Keogh  ;  for  the  Tablet  and 
Nation  treated  him  as  the  really  formidable  protector  of  those 
gentlemen.  No  more  violent,  no  more  painful,  internecine 
conflict  agitated  Irish  politics  in  the  ]>rcsent  century  than  that 
M'hich  arose  out  of  this  clerical  and  episcopal  condonation 
and  reprobation  of  the  Keogh-Sadleir  defection  from  the 
Tenant  League. 

]\Ir.  Sadleir  was  opposed  in  Carlow  by  a  Tory,  Mr.  Alex- 
ander. The  Freeman,  the  Nation,  and  the  Tablet  exhorted 
the  people  to  vote  for  Alexander,  all  Tory  as  he  was,  rather 
than  for  the  new  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  The  Weekly  Tele- 
graph and  the  Evening  Post  cried  out  in  horror  against  this 
unholy  union  of  Orange  Tories  and  renegade  Catholics  in 
opposition  to  the  ]irot6g6  of  the  bishop,  the  favorite  of  the 
priests,  the  champion  of  the  Pope,  the  bosom  friend  of  Lord 
Aberdeen.     After  a  severe  contest,  Mr.  Sadleir  was  rejected 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  235 

by  an  adverse  majority  of  six  votes.  In  Athlone,  however, 
Mr.  Keogh  was  not  only  triumphant,  but  the  Catholic  bishop, 
Dr.  Browne,  ostentatiously  identified  himself  with  the  lauda- 
ble advancement  of  so  good  a  son  of  the  Church.  Soon  after 
a  vacancy  was  found  for  the  Lord  of  the  Treasury  in  Sligo, 
where  by  shameless  bribery  and  terrorism  he  headed  the  poll. 
A  ])arllamentary  committee  said  so  it  had  been;  but  as  Mr. 
Sadleir  was  held  to  have  no  personal  knowledge  of  those 
crimes,  his  seat  was  secure. 

In  Ireland,  centuries  of  a  cruel  penal  code  had  kept  Cath- 
olics from  every  post  of  prominence  or  distinction  in  the 
public  administration.  The  Emancipation  Act  had,  indeed, 
declared  them  no  longer  ineligible  for  such  offices  by  reason 
of  religious  faith ;  but  (as  Mr.  Peel  at  the  time  pointed  out 
to  some  unnecessarily  alarmed  Protestants)  declaring  men  not 
disqualified  was  one  thing,  actually  appointing  them  was  an- 
other. From  1829  to  1849  the  Emancipation  Act  was  little 
more  than  an  abstract  declaration,  for  any  substantial  change 
that  the  people  could  see  in  the  old  regime.  "Catholic  ap- 
pointments" came  to  be  regarded  as  the  great  test  of  Govern- 
ment liberality.  The  placing  of  Catholics  in  important  public 
offices,  especially  as  judges  on  the  bench,  was  looked  upon  as 
the  practical  application  of  the  Emancipation  Act;  and  the 
ministry  who  should  make  the  act  a  reality  would  be  ranked 
very  nearly  as  highly  as  those  who  had  enacted  it  as  a  theory. 
In  Dublin,  at  Vienna,  and  at  Rome,  Lord  Aberdeen,  through 
able  and  astute  Catholic  intermediaries,  pledged  himself  to 
this  view ;  and  unquestionably  he  meant  it.  What  greater 
proof,  it  was  asked,  could  he  give  of  his  feelings  and  inten- 
tions on  this  point  than  the  fact  of  singling  out  for  high 
positions  under  his  administration  the  most  prominent  and 
demonstrative  Irish  opponents  of  the  Titles  Bill, — the  men 
whose  ultra-Catholicism  had  rendered  them  most  obnoxious 
to  English  Protestant  prejudices? 


236  iViJTr  IRELAND. 

This  aspect  of  the  transaction  unquestionably  impressed 
many  of  the  Irish  bishops  irresistibly.  And  they  persuaded 
themseh^es  that,  even  on  the  tenant  question,  Lord  Aberdeen's 
dispositions  were  likely  to  go  beyond  anything  otherwise 
practicable.  Moreover,  the  new  political  idea  or  rule  of  "  in- 
dependence of  and  opposition  to  all  administrations"  was  too 
great  and  too  sudden  a  change  from  the  traditional  alliance 
of  the  Irish  popular  party  with  the  English  Liberals.  The 
Irish  members  had  indeed  "  resolved"  it  at  the  conference, 
but  not  more  than  a  third  of  their  number  really  meant  it. 
The  wrench  was  too  severe.  On  its  verj^  first  application  the 
new  rule  broke  down.  The  popular  mind  had  not  been 
educated  yet  beyond  the  one  point  of  always  opposing  the 
Tories,  "  who  never  gave  Catholics  anything." 

The  League  leaders,  especially  the  League  journalists 
'  Dutfy,  Gray,  and  Lucas,  denounced  the  idea  that  for  the  sake 
of  "  Catholics  in  office"  the  Land  question,  which  involved 
interests  of  Protestants  and  Catholics  alike,  should  be  sacri- 
ficed. Tliey  held  up  to  public  odium  and  eternal  reprobation 
every  man — archbishop,  bishop,  priest,  or  layman — who  di- 
rectly or  indirectly  approved  or  sustained  the  Brigade  treason. 
The  "Sndleirite  prelates,"  as  they  were  offensively  termed, 
struclc  back  Avith  hard  and  sharp  blows.  Too-demonstrative 
priests  were  removed  to  remote  parishes,  and  even  called  upon 
to  "abstain  from  political  strife."  Eventually  the  leading 
provincial  priests  (chiefly  from  the  diocese  of  Meath),  accus- 
tomed to  attend  the  meetings  in  Dublin  whereat  "  the  Brigade 
traitors"  and  their  episcopal  and  other  supporters  were  de- 
nounced, found  themselves  prohibited,  by  an  order  from 
Rome,  from  further  participation  in  sm  h  demonstrations. 

All  this  was  set  down  mainly  to  Dr.  Cullen's  account.  His 
voice  was  known  to  be  all-powerful  at  the  Propaganda.  The 
parochial  clergy  took  alarm.  He  was  suspected  of  a  deep 
design   to  overthrow  the   considerable   independence  which 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  £37 

hitherto  they  enjoyed.  It  was  said  that  "  provincial  statutes" 
had  been  forwarded  by  him  for  approval  to  Rome,  wiiereby 
the  platform  utterances  of  a  priest  should  be  confined  to  his 
own  parish.  Hitherto  in  the  selection  of  Catholic  prelates 
the  custom  had  been  for  the  diocesan  parish  priests  to  select 
by  ballot  three  persons, — digitus,  dignior,  and  dignissimus, 
according  as  they  stood  on  the  vote, — whose  names  were  for- 
warded to  Rome,  and  one  of  whom  almost  invariably  received 
the  appointment.  Dr.  Cullen  was  credited  with  the  purpose 
of  abolishing  this  ancient  custom,  and  of  recommending  the 
Holy  See  to  assert  its-  unquestionable  riglit  of  nomination 
independently  of  the  parish  priests.*  A  deep  discontent 
spread  throughout  the  island.  At  length  it  was  decided  to 
appeal  to  Rome  against  his  proceedings. 

This  was  a  very  serious,  an  almost  unprecedented,  course 
for  Irish  Catholics  to  take.  An  appeal  to  Rome  against  the 
Papal  Legate  !  To  complain  of  him  that  he  was  curbing 
with  strong  hand  the  political  action  of  clerics !  This  was 
unlikely  to  be  deemed  an  oifence  by  the  Vatican  authorities. 
The  intricacies  of  Irisii  politics,  the  tangled  skein  of  the 
League- Brigade  dispute,  could  hardly  be  unravelled  and  com- 
prehended by  such  a  tribunal.  Nevertheless,  well  knowing 
it  was  one  that  never  yet  denied  justice  to  the  weakest  or  the 
humblest,  even  against  the  lofty  and  the  strong,  the  aggrieved 
priests  of  the  tenant-right  movement  drew  up  a  formal  Memo- 
rial or  Complaint  for  presentation  to  the  Pope. 

But  who  would  sign  it?  Who  would  present  it?  Who 
was  in  a  position  to  prosecute  it, — to  proceed  to  the  Eternal 
City  and  there  attend  and  await  the  myriad  tedious  stages 
and  processes  of  investigation  ?     After  a  good  deal  of  time 

*  This  change  has,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  been  ever  since  in  a  great 
measure  applied.  In  several  instances  the  nominations  of  the  parochial 
clergy  have  been  passed  over,  and  the  bishops  directly  appointed  from 
Eome. 


238  iV^ETT  IRELAND. 

had  been  consumed  by  reason  of  these  difficulties  and  obstruc- 
tions, the  Memorial  was  at  length  duly  signed,  and  Mr.  Lucas, 
M.P.,  editor  of  the  Tablet,  was  chosen  to  proceed  to  Rome  as 
the  representative  of  the  complainants  before  the  Apostolic 
Chair.  He  went  on  a  forlorn  hope.  He  was  kindly  received. 
The  grave  impeachment  which  he  brought  was  decreed  a 
careful  consideration.  But  the  whole  proceeding  was  a  mourn- 
ful mistake.  Months  Avent  by.  Weary  waiting  in  Rome 
and  despairing  news  from  Ireland  told  heavily  on  the  spirits 
and  on  the  health  of  the  loyal-hearted  Lucas.  He  had  to 
return  to  England,  leaving  the  Memorial  to  its  fate.  When 
we  heard  that  he  lay  ill  at  Staines,  those  who  knew  the  man 
intimately  and  had  marked  the  consuming  anxiety  with  which 
he  had  fought  out  this  quarrel  felt  that  a  great  and  noble 
heart  had  been  broken  in  an  unequal  combat.  The  news  from 
Ireland  was  simply  this,  that  the  Irish  parliamentary  party 
was  a  wreck,  that  the  League  was  fatally  shattered,  the  country 
utterly  disheartened  and  despairing.  The  great  movement 
around  which  the  hopes  of  a  nation  had  centred  was  irre- 
trievably ruined.  The  League  organization,  indeed,  refusing 
to  surrender,  made  gallant  effort  for  some  few  years  further, 
and  a  small  band  of  the  Irish  members,  "among  the  faithless 
faithful  found,"— Gavan  Duffv,  G.  H.  Moore,  P.  M'Mahon, 
J.  A.  Blake,  J.  F.  Maguire,  Tristram  Kennedy,  John  Brady, 
and  others, — fought  bravely  on.  But  it  was  more  to  make  a 
stand  for  honor  than  with  hope  of  victory.  Mr.  Sadleir  had 
carried  the  day. 

No  sooner  did  Gavan  Duffy  realize  that  the  Memorial  to 
Rome  was  likely  to  come  to  naught  than  he  determined  to 
bid  Ireland  farewell.  No  man  had  staked  more  largely  on 
the  success  of  this  movement,  none  lost  more  heavily  by  its 
overthrow.  He,  at  all  events,  had  cleared  his  soul ;  he  had 
done  his  part.  He  had  given  to  the  service  of  Ireland  the 
best  years  of  his  life,  without  avail.     He  would   now  call 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  239 

upon  younger  men,  who  might  hope  where  he  could  not,  to 
take  his  place,  if  they  would ;  while,  for  himself,  he  sought 
a  new  home,  and  began  life  once  more,  at  five-and- thirty,  in 
far  Australia. 

In  1854  there  passed  through  Parliament  the  most  states- 
manlike scheme  of  British  legislation  for  half  a  century, — 
the  act  whereby  the  Australian  Colonies  were  granted  Home 
Rule.  Mr.  DiiiFy  took  a  deep  interest  and  an  active  part  in 
all  the  discussions  on  this  important  measure.  He  added  to 
it  some  of  its  wisest  provisions,  and  saved  it  from  faults  that 
might  have  seriously  marred  its  success.  Few  imagined  at 
the  time  that  he  was  destined  to  be,  ere  long,  engaged  in 
practically  applying  that  scheme  as  First  Minister  of  the 
Crown  in  free,  self-governed  Victoria  ! 

For  a.  moment  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  been  too  precipitate 
in  meditating  self-expatriation.  Towards  the  close  of  1853 
an  ominous  event  occurred.  The  first  faint  sign  of  a  fissure 
appeared  in  the  edifice  of  Mr.  Sadleir's  political  and  financial 
fortunes ! 

In  his  unsuccessful  attempt  at  re-election  for  Carlow  bor- 
ough he  had  used  unscrupulously  and  illegally  the  resources 
of  his  bank  (which  had  a  branch  in  the  town),  and  the  mech- 
anism of  bills,  bonds,  debts,  executions,  and  seizures,  to  in- 
fluence the  result.  He  usually  took  care  to  have  a  sufficient 
number  of  the  electors  in  his  power  through  some  such 
means.  On  the  morning  of  the  election  an  unfortunate  man 
named  Dowling,  suspected  of  an  intention  to  vote  for  Mr. 
Alexander,  was  unlawfully  arrested  on  some  judgment  which 
Mr.  Sadleir  produced  against  him.  Dowling  brought  an 
action  for  false  imprisonment  in  the  Court  of  Exchequer, 
Dublin,  in  November,  1853.  The  revelations  in  the  case 
were  damning  against  the  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  He  came 
into  the  witness-box,  however,  and,  as  it  was  well  expressed, 
"  denied   everything,   and   disowned   everybody."     So  bold 


240  ^^^  IRELAND. 

he  was  on  visiting  terms.  There  is  little  doubt  that  he  was 
and  desperate  was  his  evidence  that  the  jury  had  no  option 
but  to  find  against  Dowling  or  declare  Mr.  Sadleir  a  per- 
jurer. They  disbelieved  Mr.  Sadleir,  and  gave  Dowling  a 
verdict !  The  sensation  created  in  Dublin  at  the  time  by 
this  event  was  considerable ;  hardly  less  serious  was  the  ex- 
citement it  caused  in  some  of  the  political  and  financial  circles 
of  London.  In  a  few  weeks  it  became  known  that  after  such 
a  verdict  the  lordship  of  the  Treasury  could  not  be  retained. 
In  Januar}-^,  1854,  Mr.  Sadleir  "resigned." 

Resigned !  The  tide  had  turned  with  the  banker-politician, 
and,  all  unknown  to  the  world,  was  now  bearing  him  irresist- 
ibly to  ruin. 

In  March  a  sinister  rumor  crept  around  that  Mr.  Sadleir, 
so  far  from  being  a  millionaire,  was  at  the  moment  in  finan- 
cial difficulty.  The  story,  however,  was  scoffed  at,  and  re- 
ceived what  seemed  ample  refutation  in  new  proofs  displayed 
of  his  vast  financial  resources.  In  June  people  began  to  in- 
quire in  a  cynical  way,  Where  was  Mr.  Edmond  O'Flaherty? 
Mr.  O'Flaherty  was  the  Brigadier  who  had  been  made  Com- 
missioner of  Income-Tax ;  a  peculiarly  intimate  friend,  con- 
fidant, and  political  manager  of  Messrs.  Sadleir  and  Iveogh ; 
another  of  those  "  good  Catholics"  whom  it  was  so  beneficial 
to  Ireland  to  have  placed  in  high  office.  Where  was  he, 
indeed  ?  The  authorities  at  Scotland  Yard  grew  anxious 
on  the  point,  when  it  was  discovered  one  morning  that  the 
"Commissioner  of  Income-Tax"  had  fled  to  parts  unknown, 
leaving  bills  in  circulation,  some  of  them  with  forged  signa- 
tures, amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  about  fifteen  thousand 
pounds. 

Men  stared  in  wonder,  and  asked,  "  Who  next  ?"  Mr. 
O'Flaherty's  relations  with  other  of  the  Brigade  politicians 
suggested  painful  uncertainty  as  to  further  disclosures.  He 
was  a  special  protege  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  with  whom 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  241 

the  negotiator  of  the  recent  political  transactions  between  his 
friends  and  the  Aberdeen  Government.  And  now  he  was  a 
fugitive  from  justice ! 

Parliament  opened  on  the  23d  of  January,  1855.  Mr. 
Roebuck  at  once  gave  notice  that  he  would  move  for  a  com- 
mittee to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  the  army  before  Sebas- 
topol,  and  into  the  conduct  of  the  Government  departments 
responsible.  On  hearing  this  notice  read,  Lord  John  Russell 
withdrew  from  the  ministry,  and  "  upset  the  coach  again." 
Six  days  subsequently,  the  29th  of  January,  the  coalition 
administration  was  defeated  on  Mr.  Roebuck's  motion  hy  the 
large  majority  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven,  in  a  house  of 
four  hundred  and  fifty-three.  On  the  1st  of  February  Lord 
Aberdeen  resigned.  Between  the  2d  and  5th  Lord  John 
Russell  and  Lord  Derby  had  each  in  turn  tried  and  failed  to 
form  a  Cabinet.  On  the  6th  Lord  Palmerston  became  Pre- 
mier, with  a  reconstruction  of  the  late  administration.  Mr. 
Keogh  had  been  Irish  Solicitor-General ;  Mr.  Brewster  being 
Attorney-General.  Of  course  it  was  concluded  that  their 
resignation  of-  office  would  follow  upon  that  of  the  Govern- 
ment. Mr.  Brewster  did  so  resign,  under  the  belief  that  his 
junior  colleague  was  doing  the  same  ;  but  he  found  that  his 
act  had  merely  made  a  vacancy  for  Mr.  Keogh,  who  quietly 
held  on  and  stepped  into  the  Attorney-Generalship.  There 
was  a  story  current  in  the  Four  Courts  at  the  time  that  Mr. 
Keogh  had  cleverly  "  sold"  JNIr.  Brewster  in  the  proceeding, 
— had  deliberately  misled  and  outwitted  him  ;  but  I  never 
believed  it,  as  the  latter  gentleman  would,  in  any  event, 
have  acted  on  the  strict  lines  of  usage,  and  resigned  with  his 
chief. 

On  the  4th  of  August,  1855,  Mr.  Gavan  Duffy  announced, 

by  a  farewell  address  in   the  Nation,  that  he  was  about  to 

throw  up  his  seat  in  Parliament  and  leave  Ireland  forever ! 

The  news  chilled  the  country  like  a  signal  of  despair.     Mr. 

Q  21 


242  ^EW  IRELAND. 

Duffy's  first  idea,  I  believe,  was  that  the  whole  staff  of  the 
Nation  should  accompany  him,  and  that  they  should  re-estab- 
lish that  journal  under  happier  auspices  in  the  Southern  hemi- 
sphere. But  this  project  was  abandoned.  He  found  a  few 
hearts  who  would  hope  and  strive  on  at  home,  dismal  as  was 
the  outlook  then,  in  the  belief  that  some  day  Ireland  would 
come  to  life  and  would  arise  once  more.  Mr.  John  Cashel 
Hoey,  a  long-time  colleague  and  friend,  who  had  served  him 
with  ability  and  fidelity,  and  whose  brilliant  gifts  and  daunt- 
less courage  had  been  amply  tested  in  years  of  difficulty  and 
struggle,  stepped  into  Mr.  Duffy's  place  as  editor-in-chief; 
I  succeeded  to  the  second  position ;  and  Mr.  M.  Clery,  a 
nobly  honest  and  true-souled  young  Irishman,  undertook  the 
business  management  of  the  property.*  Mr.  Duffy's  vale- 
dictory address  described  in  moving  language  the  events  of 
the  past  six  years,  and  the  present  circumstances  of  Ireland. 
A  change  might  come,  he  said, — and  that  it  might  he  fondly 
prayed ;  but  unless  and  until  the  existing  conditions  altered 
"  there  was  no  more  hope  for  Ireland  than  for  a  corpse  on 
the  dissecting-table."  Gloomy  news  came  crowding  in.  On 
the  22d  of  October  Frederick  Lucas  died  at  Staines.  On 
the  6th  of  November  Gavan  Dutty  sailed  for  Australia.  It 
seemed  the  extinction  of  national  politics  in  Ireland. 

I  have  said  that  in  1854  the  tide  had  turned  with  John 
Sadleir.  Alas  !  throughout  that  year,  and  all  the  weary  days 
of  1855,  unknown  to  even  his  nearest  and  dearest  friends,  he 
was  suffering  tortures  indescribable  !  Some  of  his  colossal 
speculations  had  turned  out  adversely ;  and  he  had  misap- 
propriated the  last  shilling  of  the  Tipperary  Bank.  Another 
venture,  he  thinks,  may  recoup  all :  it  only  leads  to  deeper 
ruin !     He  must  go  on :  he  cannot  turn    back  now.     But 

*  Mr.  Hoey  and  Mr.  Clery  retired  in  1857,  from  which  date  up  to 
1876  I  remained  sole  proprietor  and  responsible  editor. 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  £43 

where  are  funds  to  be  reached  for  further  wild  endeavors  ? 
All  calmly  as  ever  he  had  trod  the  lobby  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  No  eye  could  detect  on  that  impassive  counte- 
nance of  his  that  there  was  aught  but  the  satisfaction  of 
success  within.  His  political  associates  joked  with  him  over 
Gavan  Duffy's  "political  funeral."  They  effusively  felici- 
tated him  on  the  signal  overthrow  and  final  dispersion  of  his 
adversaries.  "  Ireland  is  now  all  your  own,  John,"  said  one 
of  them ;  "  you  have  conquered  all  along  the  line.  You 
must  be  as  happy  as  a  king !"  He  smiled  his  cold  sad  smile, 
and  said,  Yes,  to  be  sure  he  was.  At  home  in  Ireland  his 
own  journal,  and  all  the  Liberal  Government  organs,  were 
never  tired  of  sounding  his  praise  and  proclaiming  his  triumph 
over  the  dead  Lucas  and  the  exiled  Duffy. 

Nightly,  after  leaving  the  House  of  Commons,  John  Sad- 
leir  sat  up  late  in  the  private  study  of  his  town  house,  11 
Glo'ster  Terrace,  Hyde  Park.  ]\Iorning  often  dawned  and 
found  him  at  his  lonely  labors.     AVhat  were  they  ? 

In  the  stillness  and  secrecy  of  those  midnight  hours  John 
Sadleir,  the  man  of  success,  the  millionaire,  the  Lord  of  the 
Treasury  that  had  been,  the  peer  of  the  realm  that  was  to 
be,  was  occupied  in  forging  deeds,  conveyances,  and  bills  for 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds ! 

Still,  accumulating  disaster  overpowered  even  these  re- 
sources of  fraud.  In  the  second  week  of  February,  1856, 
some  one  of  his  numerous  desperate  financial  expedients  hap- 
pened to  miscarry  for  a  day,  and  the  drafts  of  the  Tipperary 
Bank  were  dishonored  at  Glyn's.  The  news  came  with  a 
stunning  shock  on  most  people;  but  quickly,  next  day,  an 
announcement  was  issued  that  it  W'as  all  a  mistake, — the 
drafts  presented  anew  had  been  duly  met,  and  the  mischance 
would  not  again  befall.  The  alarm,  however,  had  reached 
Ireland,  and  at  several  of  the  branches  something  akin  to  a 
run  took  place.     If  only  a  panic  could  be  averted,  and  twenty 


244  NEW  IRELAXD. 

or  thirty  thousand  pounds  obtained,  all  might  be  saved.  So, 
at  least,  declared  Mr.  James  Sadleir,  ]\I.P.,  who  was  in  charge 
of  aifairs  in  Ireland,  telegraphing  to  John  on  the  morning  of 
Saturday,  16th  of  February.*  Twenty  or  thirty  thousand 
pounds.  Once  it  was  a  bagatelle  in  his  estimation  ;  but  now ! 
He  had  lain  on  no  bed  the  nio;ht  before.  All  ha^ffard  and 
excited  this  message  found  him.  James  little  knew  all  when 
he  thus  lightly  spoke  of  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  pounds, 
by  way  of  reassuring  his  hapless  brother.  The  wretched 
man  strove  in  vain  to  devise  some  yet  unexhausted  means  of 
raising  this  money.  He  had  already  gone  so  far,  so  perilously 
far,  that  there  was  no  possible  quarter  in  which  earnest  ap- 
plication might  not  lead  to  suspicions  that  would  invoke 
discovery !  He  drove  into  the  city.  Mr.  Wilkinson,  of 
Nicholas  Lane,  telling  the  sad  affair  subsequently,  says,  "  He 
came  to  me  on  the  morning  of  Saturday,  and  suggested  that 
I  could  raise  some  money  with  the  view  of  assisting  the  Tip- 
perarv  Bank.  He  showed  me  some  telegraphic  messages  he 
had  received  from  Ireland  on  the  subject  of  their  wants.  He 
had  several  schemes  by  which  he  thought  I  could  assist  him 
in  raising  money ;  but  after  going  into  them  I  told  him  I 
could  not  help  him,  the  schemes  being  such  as  I  could  not 
recommend  or  adopt.  He  then  became  very  excited,  put  his 
hand  to  his  head,  and  said,  '  Good  God !  if  the  Tipperary 
Bank  should  fail  the  fault  will  be  entirely  mine,  and  I  shall 
have  been  the  ruin  of  hundreds  and  thousands.'  He  walked 
about  the  office  in  a  very  excited  state,  and  urged  me  to  try 
and  help  him,  because,  he  said,  he  could  not  live  to  see  the 
pain  and  ruin  inflicted  on  others  by  the  ceasation  of  the  bank. 

*  "  Feb.  16,  1856. — Telegram  from  James  Sadleir,  30  Merion  Square 
South,  Dublin,  to  John  Sadleir,  Esq.,  M.P.,  Keform  Club,  London  :  All 
right  at  all  the  branches ;  only  a  few  small  things  refused  there.  If 
from  twenty  to  thirty  thousand  over  here  on  Monday  morning  all  is 
safe." 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  245 

The  interview  ended  in  this,  that  I  was  unable  to  assist  him 
in  his  plans  to  raise  money." 

In  this  case,  what  he  feared  in  so  many  others  exactly  oc- 
curred. Mr.  Wilkinson  had  previously  advanced  him  large 
sums,  for  which,  to  be  sure,  Mr.  Sadleir,  on  request,  had 
given  security, — one  of  those  numerous  title-deeds  which  he 
had  fabricated  during  tlie  past  year.  Mr.  Wilkinson  that 
same  Saturday  night  despatched  his  partner,  Mr.  Stevens,  to 
Dublin,  to  look  after  the  matter.  On  Monday  this  gentleman 
found  that  the  deed  was  a  forgery.  But  by  that  time  a  still 
more  dreadful  tale  was  known  to  all  the  world. 

There  is  reason  to  think  John  Sadleir  knew  of  Mr. 
Stevens's  start  for  Dublin  before  ten  o'clock  that  evening. 
His  intimate  friend,  Mr.  Norris,  solicitor,  of  Bedford  Row, 
called  on  him  about  half-past  ten,  and  remained  half  an  hour. 
The  fact  was  discussed  betw^een  them  that  the  Tipperary  Bank 
must  stop  payment  on  Monday  morning. 

John  Sadleir  sat  him  down,  all  alone,  in  that  study,  and 
callous  must  be  the  heart  that  can  contemplate  him  in  tluit 
hour  and  not  compassionate  his  agony.  All  was  over:  he 
must  die.  He  was  yet,  indeed,  in  the  prime  and  vigor  of 
manhood.  "  Considerably  above  the  middle  height,"  says 
one  who  knew  him  well,  "  his  figure  was  youthful,  but  his 
face, — that  was  indeed  remarkable.  Strongly  marked,  sallow, 
eyes  and  hair  intensely  black,  and  the  lines  of  the  mouth 
worn  into  deep  channels."  The  busy  schemes,  the  lofty 
ambitions,  the  daring  speculations,  were  ended  now.  The 
poorest  cottier  on  a  Tipperary  hill-side  might  look  the  mor- 
row in  the  face  and  cling  to  life;  but  for  him,  the  envied 
man  of  thousands,  the  morning  sun  must  rise  in  vain.  He 
seized  a  pen,  and  devoted  half  an  hour  to  letter-writing.  Oh, 
that  woful  correspondence  of  the  despairing  soul  with  those 
whom  it  loves,  and  is  to  lose  forever  !  Then  he  took  a  small 
silver  tankard  from  the  sideboard  and  put  it  in  his  breast- 

21* 


246  iV£jr  IRELAND. 

pocket,  beside  a  small  phial  which  he  had  purchased  early  in 
that  fatal  day.  As  he  passed  through  the  hall  and  took  his 
hat  from  the  stand,  he  told  the  butler  not  to  wait  up  for  him. 
He  went  out,  and  closed  the  door  behind  him  with  a  firm 
hand.  The  clocks  were  striking  twelve :  'twas  Sunday  morn- 
ing ;  God's  holy  day  had  come.  Ah,  far  away  on  the  Suir 
side  were  an  aged  father  and  mother,  with  whom  a  child  he 
often  trod  the  path  to  early  mass,  when  Sunday  bells  were 
nnisic  to  his  ear!  And  now  ! — oh,  fatal  lure  of  wealth  !  oh, 
damned,  mocking  fiend  ! — to  this,  to  this  it  liad  come  at  last ! 
He  dare  not  think  of  God,  or  friend,  or  home 

Next  morning,  on  a  little  mound  on  Hampstead  Heath, 
the  passers-by  noticed  a  gentleman  stretched  as  if  in  sleep. 
A  silver  tankard  had  fallen  from  his  hand  and  lay  upon  the 
ground.  It  smelt  strongly  of  prussic  acid.  A  crowd  soon 
gathered ;  the  police  arrived ;  they  lifted  up  the  body,  all 
stiff  aud  stark.  It  was  the  corpse  of  John  Sadleir,  the 
banker. 

On  Monday  the  news  flashed  through  the  kingdom. 
There  was  alarm  in  London  ;  there  was  wild  panic  in  Ire- 
laiul.  The  Tipperary  Bank  closed  its  doors;  the  country- 
people  flocked  into  the  towns.  They  surrounded  and  at- 
tacked the  branches :  the  poor  victims  imagined  their  money 
must  be  within,  and  they  got  crowbars,  picks,  and  spades  to 
force  the  walls  and  "  dig  it  out,"  The  scenes  of  mad  despair 
Avhich  the  streets  of  Thurles  and  Tipperary  saw  that  day 
would  melt  a  heart  of  adamant.  Old  men  went  about  like 
maniacs,  confused  and  hysterical ;  widows  knelt  in  the  street 
and,  aloud,  asked  God  was  it  true  they  were  beggared  for- 
ever. Even  the  poor-law  unions,  which  had  kept  their  ac- 
counts in  the  bank,  lost  all,  and  had  not  a  shilling  to  buy 
the  paujiers'  dinner  the  day  the  branch  doors  closed. 

The  letters  which  the  unhappy  suicide  penned  that  Satur- 


THE  SUICIDE  BANKER.  247 

day  night  reveal  much  of  the  terrible  story  so  long  hidden 
from  the  world.  The  following  was  addressed  to  his  cousin, 
Robert  Keatinge : 

"  11  Glo'ster  Terrace,  16  February  1856. 
"  Dear  Egbert, — To  what  infamy  have  I  come  step  by  step, — heap- 
ing crime  upon  crime — and  now  I  find  myself  the  author  of  numberless 
crimes  of  a  diabolical  character  and  the  cause  of  ruin  and  misery  and 
disgrace  to  thousands — ay,  to  tens  of  thousands.  Oh  how  I  feel  for 
those  on  whom  all  this  ruin  must  fall !  I  could  bear  all  punishment  but 
I  could  never  bear  to  witness  the  sufferings  of  those  on  whom  I  have 
brought  such  ruin.  It  must  be  better  that  I  should  not  live.  No  one  has 
been  privy  to  ray  crimes — they  sprung  from  my  own  cursed  brain  alone. 
I  have  swindled  and  deceived  without  the  knowledge  of  any  one.  Ste- 
vens and  Norris  are  both  innocent  and  have  no  knowledge  of  the  fabri- 
cation of  deeds  and  forgeries  by  me  and  which  I  have  sought  to  go  on 
in  the  horrid  hope  of  retrieving.  It  was  a  sad  day  for  all  when  I  came 
to  London.  I  can  give  but  little  aid  to  unravel  accounts  and  transac- 
tions. There  are  serious  questions  as  to  my  interest  in  the  Grand  Junc- 
tion and  other  undertakings.  Much  will  be  lost  to  the  creditors  if  these 
cases  are  not  fairly  treated.  The  Grand  Junction  the  East  Kent  and  the 
Swiss  Railways  the  Rome  line  the  Coal  Co.  are  all  liable  to  be  entirely 
lost  now — so  far  as  my  assets  are  concerned.  I  authorize  you  to  take 
possession  of  all  my  letters,  papers,  property,  &c.,  &c.,  in  this  house  and 
at  Wilkinsons  and  18  Cannon  Street.  Return  my  brother  his  letters  to 
me  and  all  other  papers.  The  prayers  of  one  so  wicked  could  not  avail 
or  I  would  seek  to  pray  for  those  I  leave  after  me  and  who  will  have  to 
suS'er  such  agony  and  all  owing  to  my  criminal  acts.  Oh  that  I  never 
quitted  Ireland !  Oh  that  I  had  resisted  the  first  attempts  to  launch  me 
into  speculations.  If  I  had  had  less  talents  of  a  worthless  kind  and 
more  firmness  I  might  have  remained  as  I  once  was  honest  and  truthful 
— and  I  would  have  lived  to  see  my  dear  Father  and  Mother  in  their  old 
age.     I  weep  and  weep  now,  but  what  can  that  avail ! 

"  J.  Sadleir. 

"  KoBEET  Keatinge,  Esq.,  M.P., 
Sliamroque  Lodge,  Clapljam." 

Banks,  railways,  assurance  associations,  land  companies, 
every  undertaking  with  which  he  had  been  connected,  were 
.flung  into  dismay,  and  for  months  fresh  revelations  of  fraud, 
forgery,  and  robbery  came  daily  and  hourly  to  view.  By  the 
month  of  April  the  total  of  such  discoveries  had  reached  one 
million  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds. 


248  ^^W  IRELAND. 

While  the  three  kingdoms  were  ringing  with  this  frightful 
story,  and  the  career  of  the  Sadleir  party  was  being  recalled 
and  narrated  like  some  tale  of  a  band  of  mediaeval  banditti, 
a  piece  of  news  almost  as  astounding  burst  on  us  all.  Mr. 
Keogh  was  elevated  to  the  bench,  clothed  with  the  ermine,  as 
puisne  judge  of  the  Common  Pleas!  More  than  twenty 
years  have  passed  away,  and  those  feelings  still  rankle  in  the 
Irish  breast.  Irishmen  could  sooner  forgive  a  defeat  in  the 
field ;  they  could  sooner  forget  the  wounds  of  a  penal  code. 
In  tlie  days  that  were  now  close  at  hand,  the  agents  of  revo- 
lutionary conspiracy  found  no  more  irresistible  argument  in 
pushing  their  terrible  propaganda  among  the  people  than  a 
reference  to  this  transaction,  and  to  the  story  of  "  Sadleir's 
Brigade." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE   ARBUTHNOT   ABDUCTION. 


On  Sunday,  the  2d  of  July,  1854,  I  was  standing  with 
some  friends  outside  the  ivied  gateway  of  Holy  Cross  Abbey, 
county  Tipperary.  We  were  examining  a  curiously  sculp- 
tured stone  of  the  sixteenth  century,  built  into  the  wall  close 
by  the  northern  end  of  the  bridge  which  here  si)ans  the  Suir, 
when  a  cry  or  shout  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  the 
noise  of  a  horse  in  rapid  gallop,  attracted  our  attention. 
Looking  quickly  around,  we  had  barely  time  to  get  out  of  the 
way  when  there  dashed  by  us  at  furious  speed  a  police  orderly, 
his  horse  all  flecked  with  foam,  and  mud  spattered  to  the  top 
of  his  shako.  What  was  it?  Not  another  "rising,"  surely? 
"  A  landlord  shot,  as  sure  as  we  live,"  exclaimed  one  of  our 
party ;  and,  standing  where  we  did,  on  Tipperary  soil,  in  the 
midst  of  a  famous  shooting-district,  no  guess  could  have  been 
more  natural  under  all  the  circumstances.  After  a  while  we 
turned  into  the  abbey,  and,  having  spent  an  hour  amidst  the 
ruined  aisles  of  King  Donald's  church  and  the  shattered 
tombs  of  prince  and  lord,  we  forgot  for  a  moment  the  hurried 
horseman,  and  came  away.  It  was  only  when  we  returned  to 
Tiiurles,  after  a  brisk  walk  of  three  miles,  we  had  an  expla- 
nation of  the  incident  at  the  bridge.  "  Did  you  hear  the 
news,  sir  ? — did  you  hear  the  news  ?  Carden  of  Barnane — 
the  country  is  up  in  pursuit  of  him  ;  all  the  police  are  out, 
and  the  mounted  men  are  giving  the  alarm,  and " 

"  But  what  has  he  done  ?" 

"Done,  sir!  Didn't  you  hear?  ISIiss  Arbuthnot — the 
young  English  lady,  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Gough,  that  he  was  mad 

249 


250  -^^'^  IRELAND. 

in  love  with,  they  say — sure  he  tried  to  carry  her  oif ;  and 
there  was  a  bloody  battle  between  his  men,  all  armed,  and  the 
people  defending  her,  and  he  was  beat ;  but  an  orderly  has 
brought  word  to  our  sub-inspector  that  they  say  he  was  took 
an  hour  ago,  on  the  road  below  at  Farney." 

Could  we  credit  our  ears  ?  An  abduction !  Had  the 
M'orst  days  of  the  last  century  come  back  on  us  once  more  ? 
An  abduction,  and  by  Mr.  Garden  of  Barnane,  one  of  the  mag- 
nates of  the  county,  a  great  landlord,  grand  juror,  magistrate, 
deputy-lieutenant !  Before  nightfall  the  town  was  all  excite- 
ment over  the  story,  which  was  told  in  a  hundred  versions. 
True  it  was  that  an  event  destined  to  startle  the  kingdom 
from  end  to  end  had  just  befallen  within  a  few  miles  of 
where  we  stood.  "  For  years  past,"  said  the  Times  two  days 
subsequently,  "  no  event  of  any  political  cast  has  created 
greater  excitement  than  the  adventurous  attempt  of  the  lord 
of  Barnane  to  possess  himself,  by  means  beyond  the  ])ale  of 
the  law,  of  a  bride  possessed  of  all  the  requisites,  personal 
and  pecuniary,  which  M-ere  but  too  frequently  irresistible  for 
the  philosophy  of  the  Celtic  temperament." 

About  three  miles  from  Clonmel,  the  beautifully  environed 
capital  of  Southern  Tipperary,  stands  Rathronan  House.  The 
road  to  Cashel  leads  due  north  for  two  miles,  when,  at  Rath- 
ronan Church,  it  turns  sharply  to  the  left  and  west.  Here 
it  skirts  for  a  mile  the  southern  boundary  of  Rathronan  de- 
mesne, after  which  it  turns  again  northwards.  On  this  road 
is  the  avenue-entrance  to  Rathronan  House,  the  ^ate-lodge 
being  half  a  mile  from  the  little  church  already  referred  to. 
In  1854  Rathronan  was  the  residence  of  Captain  the  Honor- 
able George  Gough,  eldest  son  of  Field-Marshal  Lord  Gough, 
the  hero  of  Sobraon.  Captain  Gough  had  married  an  English 
lady,  daughter  of  Mr.  George  Arbuthnot,  of  Elderslie,  Surrey, 
and  at  this  time  two  sisters  of  Mrs.  Gough,  Laura,  the  elder, 
and  Eleanor,  the  younger,  resided  with  her.     The  fame  of 


THE  ARBVTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  251 

these  fair  Saxons  filled  the  county.  They  were  young,  hand- 
some, and  accomplished.  When  I  add  that  they  were  heir- 
esses to  considerable  fortunes,  it  will  be  at  once  admitted  they 
were  fascinating  and  irresistible.  So  at  least  thought  all  the 
young  gallants  of  the  "upper  ten"  in  Tipperary.  Eleanor 
fairly  turned  the  heads  of  several  of  them ;  yet  her  heart  was 
obdurate :  she  was  impartially  civil  and  cold  to  all.  Among 
these  suitors  was  "  the  lord  of  Barnane,"  ]\Ir.  John  Garden.* 
He  had  met  her  at  ISIarlfield,  the  charming  residence  of  Mr. 
Bagwell,  long  time  member  for  Clonmel,  and  soon  the  North 
Riding  squire  was  the  most  desperately  in  love  of  all.  He 
followed  her  everywhere.  Wherever  she  appeared — at  arch- 
ery meet  or  at  flower-show,  at  concert,  evening  party,  or 
county  ball — there  was  he,  like  one  under  a  spell,  having 
eyes  for  nothing  and  nobody  but  her.  Between  him  and 
Captain  Gough  there  existed  the  friendly  and  social  relations 
of  one  county  gentleman  with  another  constantly  met  in  the 
hunting-field  and  the  grand-jury  room;  but  the  families  were 
not  intimate  in  their  intercourse.  At  length  Mr.  Garden 
formally  proposed  for  the  hand  of  the  English  maiden.  He 
was  refused, — refased  under  circumstances  that  not  alone 
wounded  his  feelings,  but  caused  him  to  believe  that  he  owed 
his  repulse  not  so  much  to  any  aversion  on  the  part  of  the 
young  lady  as  to  unfair  opposition  on  the  part  of  her  family. 
Once  this  idea  took  possession  of  him,  there  was  no  dis- 
placing it.  Trifles  light  as  air  were  viewed  as  corroboration; 
a  fancied  glance  as  she  passed  him  in  the  street,  a  flourish 
of  her  whip  as  she  drove  by  in  the  pony-j^haeton,  were  em- 
braced as  so  many  signals  that  she  really  loved  him  but  was 
under  restraint.     The  plain  truth  was,  she  cared  not  a  jot  for 

*  He  was  cousin  of  Sir  John  Curden,  of  the  Priory,  Templemore,  and 
was  called  "Woodcock  Garden,"  so  often  had  he  been  fired  at  when  at 
one  period  of  his  life  he  was  carrying  out  extensive  evictions. 


252  ^^W  IRELAND. 

the  lord  of  Barnane.  Very  likely  she  may  have  been  for  a 
while  a  little  pleased  with  or  vain  of  his  attentions;  but  she 
did  all  that  a  young  girl  could  well  do,  without  being  pain- 
fully rude,  to  repress  any  closer  advances  once  things  became 
serious. 

The  ladies  of  Rathronan  House  were  in  the  habit  of  attend- 
ing divine  service  on  Wednesdays  at  Fethard,  a  town  distant 
northward  six  or  seven  miles.  On  Wednesday,  the  28th  of 
June,  1854,  from  one  reason  or  another  Miss  Eleanor  and 
Mrs,  Gough  stayed  at  home,  and  the  elder  Miss  Arbuthnot, 
Laura,  and  a  young  lady  friend,  Miss  Linden,  Avere  driven 
to  the  church  at  Fethard,  by  a  servant  named  Hoare.  While 
he  was  engaged  in  stabling  the  horse  during  the  time  of 
service,  Hoare  was  accosted  by  ^Ir.  John  Garden's  confi- 
dential "  man,"  Rainsberry,  who  was  very  inquisitive  and 
asked  quite  a  number  of  pumping  questions  about  the  young 
ladies.  He  elicited  from  Hoare,  at  all  events,  the  fact  that 
Miss  Eleanor  was  not  of  tiie  party.  Returning  home  the 
ladies  encountered  on  the  road,  at  a  place  called  Market  Hill, 
Mr.  Garden,  who  was  on  horsel^ack,  and  it  was  observed  that 
drawn  up  close  by  was  a  carriage.  Furthermore,  Hoare 
noticed  that  soon  after  the  Rathronan  phaeton  passed  a  car 
drove  up,  containing  Rainsberry  and  four  other  men,  who 
joined  the  attendants  of  the  carriage  in  the  by-way.  These 
circumstances,  however,  seem  to  have  aroused  no  particular 
suspicions  at  the  time. 

Next  day  there  was  the  Midsummer  Flower-Show  at 
Glonmel,  the  favored  annual  rendezvous  of  the  county  gentry, 
or  rather  of  the  county  ladies.  INIr.  Garden  was  early  on  the 
ground.  He  sauntered  through  the  marquees,  and  strolled 
along  the  stands;  but  the  bloom  of  June  roses  had  no  charm 
for  him.  His  eyes  sought  only  the  flower  of  Rathronan. 
In  the  afternoon  she  appeared.  He  accosted  her;  asked  how 
her  sister  was.     She  bowed,  answered  that  her  sister  was  very 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  253 

well,  and  passed  on.  All  effort  to  engage  her  in  conversation 
was  baffled. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  2d  of  July,  1854,  Mrs.  Gough, 
Miss  Arbuthnot,  Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot,  and  Miss  Linden 
attended  divine  worship  at  Rathronan,  Captain  Gough  being 
all  this  time  absent  in  Dublin.  The  party  were  driven  to 
the  church  on  an  Irish  "  outside"  car.  As  they  entered  the 
church-yard  they  saw  standing  behind  a  tombstone,  as  if 
idly  waiting  the  commencement  of  the  service,  Mr.  Garden 
of  Barnane.  Considering  the  incident  of  Wednesday,  the 
meeting  at  the  flower-show,  and,  above  all,  the  fact  that 
Rathronan  was  not  the  church  which  ordinarily  he  would 
attend,  they  must  have  felt  his  presence  to  be  only  a  new 
demonstration  of  that  "  haunting"  process  of  which  they  had 
by  this  time  become  painfully  conscious.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  attracted  general  notice,  nearly  every  one  understanding 
that  he  came  to  have  a  look  at  "  Miss  Eleanor."  During 
devotions  he  exhibited  not  a  trace  of  nervousness,  excitement, 
or  anxiety.  He  withdrew  at  the  close  of  the  regular  service; 
but  as  this  was  Sacrament  Sunday  the  Rathronan  ladies  waited 
to  communicate,  and  consequently  did  not  leave  at  the  same 
time. 

The  mornino;  had  been  so  fine  that  the  ladies  had  left 
home,  as  I  have  mentioned,  on  an  open  vehicle ;  but  scarcely 
had  they  entered  the  church  when  heavy  showers  came  on. 
The  coachman,  James  Dwyer,  quick  in  thought,  drove  back 
to  Rathronan  (distant  three-quarters  of  a  mile),  put  up  the 
outside  jaunting-car,  and  returned  with  what  is  called  a 
"  covered  car"  in  its  stead.  This  is  a  description  of  vehicle 
which  is  entered  at  the  back,  the  passengers  sitting  on  each 
side  vis-di-vis  within.  Dwyer  little  dreamt  how  much  was 
soon  to  turn  on  this  change  of  "  traps." 

There  had  meantime  drawn  up  outside  the  Rathronan  de- 
mesne gateway  a  carriage,  to  which  were  harnessed  a  dashing 

22 


254  ^^^^^  IRELAND. 

jiair  of  thoroughbreds.  Six  strange  men  were  observed  loiter- 
ing about  close  by ;  and  on  the  road  outside  the  entrance  to  the 
church-yard  a  groom  led  two  saddle-horses.  When  Mr.  Car- 
den  quitted  the  church  he  mounted  one  of  them,  and  rode  up 
to  where  the  carriage  stood.  He  spoke  a  few  hurried  words,  on 
which  the  coachman  gripped  his  reins,  and  the  six  "  guards," 
or  attendants,  at  once  closed  in.  Mr.  Garden  got  off  his  horse, 
and  earnestly  examined  the  housings  of  the  two  magnificent 
animals  yoked  to  the  carriage.  Every  strap  and  buckle,  band 
and  trace,  was  minutely  and  carefully  scrutinized  and  tested. 
The  examination  concluded,  he  again  mounted  and  rode  back 
towards  the  church.  He  met  Captain  Gough's  covered  car 
returning  with  the  ladies.  He  at  once  wheeled  round  and 
closely  followed  it,  his  horse's  head  being  barely  a  few  feet 
from  the  end  of  the  vehicle.  Dwyer,  the  coachman,  as  he 
neared  the  gateway,  saw  the  strange  carriage  and  the  attend- 
ants, and  knew  that  behind  was  riding  Mr.  John  Carden  of 
Barnane,  the  importunate  suitor  of  "•  the  young  mistress." 
Some  thought  that  all  was  not  rio-ht  flashed  like  ligrhtnins: 
through  his  mind.  He  had  not  time  to  work  the  problem 
out  to  any  very  clear  conclusion  ;  but  as  he  neared  tlie  gate, 
he,  with  a  sort  of  instinctive  alarm,  shook  the  rein  and  cried 
to  his  horse.  Before  a  touch  of  his  whip  could  fall,  the  six 
men  dashed  forward,  seized  and  stopped  the  car.  Then  first 
he  recognized  in  their  leader  Rainsberry,  and  divined  what 
was  u]>.  He  sprang  from  the  driving-seat,  exclaiming, 
^'Rainsberry,  you  villain,  let  go  my  horse;  you'll  pay  dear 
for  this  !"  A  blow  on  the  head  from  a  skull-cracker  tumbled 
Dwyer  to  the  ground.  Rainsberry  shouted  out,  "  Cut,  cut ! 
Knives,  knives!"  One  of  the  band  ])ulled  from  beneath  his 
coat  a  large  garden-knife,  freshly  sharpened,  and  with  one 
stroke  severed  the  reins  of  the  Rathronan  horse ;  another  and 
another,  and  the  traces  hung  on  the  road.  This  was  but  the 
work  of  a  few  seconds  :  years  of  terror  and  agony  they  seemed 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  255 

to  the  screaming  victims  in  the  car.  At  the  instant  the  ve- 
hicle was  stopped,  Mr.  Garden  jumped  from  his  horse,  rushed 
over,  and  grasped  at  Eleanor  Arbuthnot.  But  the  whole 
chapter  of  accidents  was  in  her  favor  that  day.  She  hap- 
pened to  be  farthest  in  :  he  could  touch  her  only  by  reaching 
across  Miss  Linden,  who,  sitting  on  the  same  seat,  was  next 
the  door.  Had  the  ladies  been  on  the  outside  car  which  bore 
them  to  church  in  the  morning,  one  pull  from  their  assailant 
would  have  brought  any  of  them  to  his  feet.  But,  placed  as 
they  now  were,  they  were  considerably  sheltered  from  attack  ; 
and  before  Eleanor  could  be  reached  the  other  three  had  to 
be  pulled  out  and  disposed  of.  All  four  showed  fight  in  the 
most  determined  manner,  fully  realizing  what  was  on  foot. 
Mr.  Garden  succeeded  for  a  moment  in  grijiping  Eleanor. 
With  desperate  energy  he  pulled  and  strained  to  drag  her  out. 
Laura  held  her  back,  and  Miss  Linden,  drawing  her  clenched 
fist  Avith  all  the  force  she  could  command,  struck  the  unde- 
fended face  of  the  deputy-lieutenant  a  smashing  blow.  Blood 
spurted  from  his  nose  and  streamed  down  his  face,  covering 
his  shirt-front  and  vest.  He  loosed  his  hold  and  turned 
sharply  on  his  lady  assailant.  In  vain  she  shrieked  and 
struggled :  he  tore  her  furiously  from  her  hold,  and  flung 
her  on  the  side  of  the  road.  Mrs.  Gough,  whose  condi- 
tion of  health  at  the  time  made  a  scene  like  this  almost 
certain  death  for  her,  sprang  as  best  she  could  out  of 
the  car,  and  rushed  through  the  avenue  towards  the  house, 
screaming  for  help.  A  young  peasant,  named  McGrath, 
was  the  first  to  arrive  on  the  scene.  He  saw  Captain 
Gough's  herd  at  some  distance,  and  shouted  to  him  to 
hurry,  —  that  there  was  murder  going  on.  Then,  with 
genuine  Tipperary  vehemence,  he  dashed  into  the  fray. 
Had  it  been  a  struggle  altogether  between  men,  ^IcGrath 
would  doubtless  have  been  perplexed  which  side  to  espouse, 
lest  he  might  by  any  mischance  be  striking  in  behalf  of  "law 


256  -^^-^^  IRELAND. 

aiifl  order," — the  police,  the  magistrates,  the  landlords,  or 
that  concatenation  of  them  all,  "  the  Government."  But  he 
saw  women  attacked,  and  he  could  make  no  mistake  in  hit- 
ting hard  at  their  assailants.*  Mr.  Garden  returned  to  the 
car  after  hurling  Miss  Linden  aside,  and  renewed  his  en- 
deavors to  drag  Eleanor  Arbuthnot  from  her  seat.  "  Eleanor! 
Eleanor !"  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  you  I  want.  I  know  I  shall 
hang  for  this.  My  life  will  be  the  price !"  Laura  yet  re- 
mained with  her;  and  he  found  he  must  get  rid  of  the  elder 
sister  as  he  had  disposed  of  Miss  Linden.  After  a  long  con- 
test he  succeeded,  and  there  now  remained  in  the  vehicle  but 
the  one  whose  capture  was  the  object  of  all  his  efforts.  The 
hapless  girl  had  seen  her  companions  and  protectors  one  by 
one  torn  from  her  side,  and  now  her  turn  had  come.  Bravely, 
nobly,  all  undaunted,  would  she  fight  to  the  last !  She  put  her 
arm  through  a  leather  hanging-strap  that  was  fixed  beside 
the  window,  and  held  on  for  dear  life.  .  She  struggled  fran- 
tically against  the  powerful  savage,  who  wildly  pulled  and 
tore  at  her  with  all  his  force.  Several  times  had  he  suc- 
ceeded but  for  the  interference,  at  the  most  critical  moment, 
of  some  one  of  her  few  defenders  outside ;  for  all  this  time 
a  deadly  encounter  was  proceeding  on  the  road.  McGrath, 
his  head  literally  gashed  with  wounds,  Dwyer  the  coachman, 
and  Smithwick  the  herd,  also  bleeding  profusely,  were,  ever 
and  anon,  despite  the  greater  numbers  of  their  foes,  able 
to  make  a  dash  at  Mr.  Garden  and  drive  him  from  his 
hold.  But,  by  the  testimony  of  all  who  saw  that  scene,  not 
one  of  them  fought  so  daringly  as  Miss  Linden.  Again 
and  again  she  was  flung  to  the  ground  by  Mr.  Garden ;  as 
often  did  she  spring  to  her  feet  and  clutch  him  by  the  throat, 


*  He  is,  I  believe,  still  alive,  and  now  in  a  very  respectable  position. 
Miss  Arbuthnot  presented  him  with  a  handsome  gold  watch,  suitably 
inscribed  ;  and  Lord  Gough  obtained  for  him  a  situation  in  the  Excise. 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  257 

tear  his  hair  by  the  handful,  and  pound  his  face  till  it  bled 
anew ! 

Gasping,  breathless,  almost  fainting, — he  had  received  a 
fearful  blow  of  a  stone  on  the  temple  from  McGrath, — Mr. 
Garden  cried  to  his  followers,  "Cowards!  cowards!  come  on. 
Why  don't  you  fire?  why  don't  you  fire?"  But  happily 
they  would  not  fire,  though  in  the  carriage  close  by  fire-arms 
had  been  provided.  The  only  one  of  them  who  seemed 
ready  to  proceed  to  extremities  was  E-ainsberry.  The  others, 
as  they  subsequently  complained,  had  been  told  that  Miss 
Eleanor  Arbuthuot  was  to  be  a  consenting  party  to  the  ab- 
duction. When  they  saw  the  turn  the  affair  had  taken,  they 
wished  to  be  well  out  of  it.  Every  moment  showed  them 
more  clearly  that  their  necks  were  being  run  into  halters, 
and  every  moment  also  lessened  their  chance  of  escape.  Help 
was  now  approaching;  shouts  were  heard  in  the  distance. 
The  maddeninsr  thought  forced  itself  on  Mr.  Garden  that  he 
had  failed,  and  must  fly.  Not  readily,  however,  could  he  be 
got  to  realize  the  astounding  fact.  His  attendants  almost 
forced  him  into  the  carriage,  and,  like  arrow  from  the  bended 
bow,  off  it  flew,  two  of  the  finest  blood-horses  in  all  Mun- 
ster  straining  in  the  traces. 

Glonmel  was  the  first  to  receive  the  alarm,  and  quickly  Mr. 
Goold,  the  resident  magistrate,  Mr.  Fosberry,  the  sub-inspec- 
tor of  police,  and  a  strong  party  of  constabulary  were  in  full 
chase.  They  rightly  guessed  that  the  fugitives  would  make 
for  Templemore,  and  they  dashed  away  northwards.  Mean- 
while the  Rathronan  farm  steward  had  taken  horse  and  gal- 
loped to  Gashel,  where,  on  receipt  of  the  astounding  news 
which  he  brought,  Mr.  M'Cullagh,  the  sub-inspector,  with 
all  the  mounted  officers  of  his  force,  soon  took  saddle  and 
gave  pursuit.  About  three  or  four  miles  north  of  Holy  Gross, 
and  within  four  or  five  of  Barnane  gate,  is  Farney  Bridge, 
close  by  Farney  Gastle,  the  picturesque  residence  of  Mr. 
R  22* 


258  ^^^y  IRELAND. 

Armstrong.  Here,  after  a  ride  of  ten  miles  at  full  gallop, 
they  sighted  the  carriage  going  at  a  desperate  pace.  But  Mr. 
M'Cullagh's  horses  were  fresh,  and  the  run  of  twenty  miles 
from  Rathronan,  over  very  heavy  roads,  had  told  severely  on 
Mr.  Garden's.  The  officers  soon  overhauled  the  vehicle  and 
summoned  the  occupants  to  pull  up  and  surrender.  The 
answer  was  a  shout  of  defiance.  Instantly  springing  from 
the  stirrup,  Mr.  M'Cullagh  rushed  at  the  horses,  managed  to 
seize  them,  and  by  turning  them  slightly  ran  the  carriage  into 
the  ditch.  Two  attendants  jumped  from  the  "  dickey"  and 
showed  fight,  but  they  were  at  once  overpowered.  In  fact, 
Farney  police  barrack  was  quite  close  at  hand,  and  on  the  first 
noise  of  the  aifray  the  men  turned  out,  arriving  in  time  to 
assist  in  the  capture  and  disarmament  of  the  whole  party. 
Mr.  Garden  was  discovered  to  be  severely  wounded  about  the 
head  and  neck.  There  were  found  upon  him  a  loaded  six- 
barrelled  revolver,  a  loaded  double-barrelled  pistol,  a  belt 
containing  three  hundred  and  fifteen  pounds  in  gold  and 
English  notes,  a  memorandum-book,  and  a  lady's  lace  veil. 
AVith  the  prisoners  were  taken  three  "  life-preservers,"  one 
stained  with  blood,  a  large  knife,  and  a  pouch  of  revolver 
ammunition.  In  the  carriage  were  a  coil  of  rope,  coats,  rugs, 
shawls,  quite  a  variety  of  clothing,  and  a  black  leather  bag. 
On  opening  the  bag  it  was  found  to  contain  two  bottles  of 
chloroform,  one  bottle  of  mixture,  a  sponge,  a  bottle  of 
smelling-salts,  a  bottle  of  tincture  of  valerifMl^  a  small  goblet, 
some  ladies'  gloves,  a  pair  of  ladies'  slippci's,  a  crochet  vest, 
a  wig,  some  bandages  and  lint,  besides  minor  articles.  One 
of  the  chloroform-bottles  was  marked  *'  a  teaspoonful  to  a  cup 
of  water."  From  the  following  entry  discovered  in  the 
memorandum-book  it  would  seem  that  Mr.  Garden  meant  to 
drive  through  his  om'u  demesne  without  stopping,  despatching 
this  written  message  to  some  trusted  agent  there : 

"Lock  the  main  gate;  bully  and  baffle  all  pursuers;  but 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTIOX.  259 

don't  endanger  life.  Lead  pursuers  to  suspect  that  I'm  shut 
up  in  the  tower.  Rake  the  gravel  at  the  house  to  remove 
tracks.  Give  a  hint  to  Johnson  to  be  a  friend  and  mislead 
the  pursuers.  Do  not  forward  my  letters,  but  write  yourself 
to  St.  James's,  and  protect  the  men  who  were  with  me." 

All,  however,  was  over  now.  His  desperate  game  was 
played  and  lost.     He  was  led  a  prisoner  to  Cashel  jail.* 

So  incredible  did  it  seem  that  such  an  outrage  as  this  could 
happen  in  our  country  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
that  when  the  first  reports  appeared  in  the  Dublin  news- 
papers there  were  many  readers  who  derided  the  story  as  a 
sensational  fiction.  It  was  only  when  every  day  and  hour 
subsequently  brought  irresistible  corroboration  that  men  uni- 
versally accepted  as  a  fact  the  astounding  narrative.f  The 
particulars  that  came  later  to  hand  intensified  the  general 
excitement.  It  became  known  that  the  measures  Mr.  Garden 
had  concerted  for  the  abduction  of  Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot 
had  occupied  his  attention  for  a  long  period  and  had  involved 
a  considerable  expenditure.  He  had,  it  was  stated,  decided 
upon  conveying  her  to  the  shore  of  Galway  Bay  (distant 
some  fifty  miles),  where  he  had  a  steamer  chartered  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  her  off  to  sea,  relays  of  horses  being  placed 
along  the  entire  route  from  Templemore  to  Galway.  The 
vessel  with  steam  up  was  lying  off  the  shore,  and  it  was 

*  One  of  the  carriage-horses,  worth  a  hundred  and  fifty  guineas, 
dropped  dead  on  the  road,  ere  they  had  proceeded  more  than  a  mile 
towards  the  town. 

f  The  curious  influence  of  example  in  crimes  of  a  peculiar  nature  was 
soon  exemplified  in  this  case.  Within  a  week  or  two  abductions  sud- 
denly reappeared  in  several  parts  of  the  country.  A  few  days  after  the 
Ruthronan  attempt  a  Tipperary  policeman  carried  oflT  a  respectable 
young  girl  from  her  friends  ;  and  at  Cork,  John  Walsh,  a  printer,  was 
committed  for  the  abduction  of  Mary  Spillane,  a  girl  under  eighteen 
years  of  age,  who  was  entitled  to  a  good  fortune  on  attaining  her 
majority. 


260  iV^jEir  IRELAND. 

stated  to  be  his  intention  to  sail  direct  for  London.  These 
preparations  cost  him  a  sura  of  about  seven  thousand  pounds. 
On  Thursday,  the  27th  of  July,  1854,  the  Tipperary 
South  Riding  assizes  were  opened  in  Clonmel  by  the  Right 
Honorable  Judge  Ball.  Hardly  within  the  memory  of  the 
oldest  inhabitant  was  there  such  a  throng  of  the  county  fami- 
lies as  filled  the  town  upon  that  day  ;  for  the  sensational  trial 
of  Mr.  John  Garden  was  to  be  the  great  item  of  the  calendar. 
The  Honorable  George  O'Callaghan,  high  sheriff,  "was  in  a 
state  bordering  on  frenzy  for  several  days  previously.  Ladies, 
young,  old,  and  neuter,  hunted  him  remorselessly  from  post 
to  pillar  with  unappeasable  demands  for  admission-tickets. 
He  piteously  explained  that  a  considerable  enlargement  of 
the  county  court-house  was  impracticable  at  such  short  notice, 
and  that  he  feared  the  judge  would  not  listen  to  the  idea  of 
conducting  the  trial  on  the  race-course  or  in  the  fair-green. 
All  to  no  purpose.  Every  fair  persecutor  was  very  sure  she 
Avoiild  take  up  little  room, — "  hardly  any  at  all," — and  could 
easily,  "  if  he  pleased,"  be  provided  with  a  nook  whence  she 
could  see  that  poor  mad  creature  Mr.  Garden,  dear  soul,  who 
had  "  loved  not  wisely  but  too  well,"  and  so  forth  ;  and  it 
was  nothing  but  downright  ill  nature,  to  be  resented  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  for  him,  the  high  sheriff,  or  Sam  Going,  his 
surly  "sub,"  to  say  the  places  were  already  assigned.  He 
fled  the  town, — was  "  not  at  home"  to  inquirers, — but  they 
pushed  their  way  into  his  study  all  the  same.  Then  he  took 
to  his  bed,  and  gave  out  that  he  was  very  ill, — a  combination 
of  measles  and  whooping-cough,  with  a  touch  of  scarlatina, 
the  Chronicle  newspaper  said  it  was ;  but  the  delightful  beings 
would  penetrate  to  the  side  of  his  couch,  and  while  he  groaned 
out  from  under  the  counterpane  that  except  the  dock  there 
was  not  an  inch  of  space  undisposed  of,  they  gave  him  "  bits 
of  their  mind"  in  return,  which  they  assured  him  he  would 
never  be  allowed  to  forget ! 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  261 

It  is  not  to  be  concluded  that  the  sterner  sex  were  at  all 
less  earnest  in  their  persecutions.  But  it  was  not  Mr.  Garden 
they  wanted  to  see.  "'  One  glimpse  at  that  lovely,  that  heroic 
girl,"  was  begged  and  scrambled  for  with  wild  enthusiasm. 
"Sure  you  can  see  her  some  other  time,"  expostulated  poor 
Mr.  Going.  The  result  of  such  observations  on  his  part 
was  his  exclusion  from  "society"  in  the  South  Riding  for 
several  seasons  afterwards. 

Jamque  dies  infanda  aderat.  Old  Judge  Ball,  grandly 
preceded  by  halberdiers  and  pikemen  and  trumpeters,  and 
attended  by  the  truly  unhappy  sheriff  "  in  state,"  went  down 
to  the  court-house.  The  Honorable  Cornwallis  Maude,  fore- 
man of  the  grand  jury,  having  listened  to  his  lordship's  open- 
ing address,  retired  with  his  brethren  for  a  while.  Soon  they 
returned  into  court  with  a  "true  bill"  against  their  long-time 
friend  and  fellow-magistrate,  Mr.  John  Garden,  for  the  for- 
cible abduction  of  Miss  Eleanor  Arbuthnot  of  Rathronan. 
It  was  known  that  great  legal  contention  would  arise  as  to 
whether  Mr.  Garden  could  be  said  in  law  to  have  effected 
the  "  abduction,"  as  he  had  not  succeeded  in  removing  the 
young  lady  from  the  car.  .To  guard  against  mishap,  the 
Grown  sent  up  minor  indictments  for  attempted  abduction 
and  for  aggravated  assault.  On  these  also  true  bills  were 
returned.  The  jury  acquitted  the  prisoner  on  the  charge 
of  abduction.  Next  day  he  was  arraigned  for  the  attempt  to 
abduct,  and  was  found  guilty.  A  third  time,  on  the  follow- 
ing Monday,  he  was  put  on  trial  for  a  felonious  assault  on 
Smithwick,  the  Rathronan  herd.  This  was  very  generally 
felt  to  be  an  overdoing  of  the  business  by  the  prosecution, 
and  sympathy  with  the  prisoner  was  openly  expressed  on  all 
sides.  When  the  jury  this  time  handed  down  a  verdict  of 
"•  not  guilty,"  there  was  "  loud  cheering"  in  the  court,  "  the 
ladies  waving  their  handkerchiefs."  More  astonishing  was 
the  fact  that  the  crowd  assembled  outside  the  building — be- 


262  iV^EfT  IRELAND. 

longing  to  a  class  with  whom  Mr.  Garden,  as  a  landlord,  was 
no  great  favorite — gave  vent  to  like  demonstrations.  Before 
sentence  was  passed  he  obtained  permission  from  the  judge  to 
make  some  observations,  and  he  addressed  the  court  with 
great  ability,  exhibiting  considerable  tact,  delicacy,  and  judg- 
ment in  all  he  said.  He  disclaimed  earnestly,  and  I  verily 
believe  with  perfect  truth,  the  unworthy  motives  as  to  per- 
sonal resentment,  malice,  or  gain  that  had  been  imputed  to 
him.  He  solemnly  declared  that  he  had  not  "  the  slightest 
idea  or  knowledge  of  the  delicate  state  of  Mrs.  Gough's 
health."  "  If  I  had  been  aware  of  it,"  he  added,  "  I  cer- 
tainly would  have  forbidden  the  making  of  any  such  criminal 
attempt."  Lastly,  he  indignantly  repelled  the  idea  that  the 
drugs  found  in  the  carriage  were  intended  for  the  purpose  of 
producing  insensibility. 

This  address  was  listened  to  with  breathless  attention,  and 
beyond  all  question  elicited  much  feeling  for  the  man  against 
whom  but  a  brief  week  before  every  voice  was  raised.  The 
judge,  however,  took  a  justly  stern  view  of  the  facts,  and 
sentenced  Mr.  Garden  to  two  years'  imprisonment  with  hard 
labor  in  the  county  jail.  On  the  following  day  the  Tippcrary 
Free  Press  announced  that  already  4he  unfortunate  "  lord  of 
Barnane,"  clothed  in  prison-garb,  had  commenced  the  dreary 
expiation  invoked  upon  him  by  a  passion  which  even  this 
ordeal  was  not  to  extinguish. 

Three  years  rolled  by.  Every  one  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
the  Rathronan  episode,  when  suddenly  in  the  newspapers  there 
appeared  the  startling  heading,  "  i\Ir.  John  Garden  again  ! 
Further  attempts  on  Miss  Arbuthnot !" 

In  these  sensational  announcements  he  was  somewhat 
wronged ;  yet  the  story  was  strange  enough  in  its  simple 
truth.  Imprisonment,  humiliation,  mental  and  physical 
suffering,  public  scorn,  the  relentle&s  hostility  of  her  friends, 
had  failed  to  shake  Mr.  Garden's  infatuation  for  Miss  Ar- 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  263 

buthnot.  He  followed  her  unseen.  He  inquired  about  her 
movements,  and  seemed  happy  only  when,  at  all  events,  near 
the  spot  of  earth  which  she  irradiated.  The  young  lady,  on 
the  other  hand,  suffered  the  exquisite  torture  of  ever-present 
apprehension.  She  knew  her  tormentor  was  around.  He 
had  managed  to  reach  her  presence  and  speak  to  her  once  at 
least  subsequently  to  his  release,  having  followed  her  to  El- 
derslie  in  Surrey.  On  this  occasion  liis  excited  manner  quite 
affrighted  her.  In  October,  1858,  she  was  staying  with  her 
sister,  now  Lady  Gough,  at  St.  Helen's,  near  Blackrock,  county 
Dublin,  when  the  woman  who  kept  the  gate-lodge  one  morn- 
ing reported  an  alarming  story.  For  two  or  three  days  con- 
secutively a  well-dressed  female  had  been  calling  at  the  lodge, 
inquiring  as  to  Miss  Eleanor's  movements, — at  what  times  she 
went  out,  and  whether  she  ever  walked  by  herself  in  the  de- 
mesne. At  length — so  the  lodge-keeper  averred — the  mysteri- 
ous stranger  revealed  that  she  came  from  Mr.  Garden,  and  that 
a  large  sum  of  money  would  be  given  if  he  were  assisted  to  an 
interview  with  the  young  lady  in  the  house  or  grounds.  This 
was  not  the  only  story  which  reached  oNIiss  Arbuthnot.  She 
was  told  her  demented  persecutor  had  declared  that  when  the 
Gough  family  went  to  live  at  Lough  Cooter  Castle  (recently 
purchased  by  them),  "  which  was  a  lonely  place,  he  could 
easily  carry  her  off."  Things  seemed  to  be  getting  serious : 
so  on  the  next  visit  of  INIr.  Garden's  female  ambassador  to 
the  gate-lodge  she  was  seized  and  handed  over  to  the  police. 
Informations  were  sworn  against  Mr.  Garden,  who  was  forth- 
with arrested  and  called  upon  to  give  substantial  securities 
that  he  would  not  molest  or  annoy  INILss  Eleanor  Arbuth- 
not. Once  more  we  were  in  the  midst  of  the  old  excite- 
ment. The  police  court  at  Kingstown  was  this  time  the 
scene  of  a  protracted  trial.  It  became  evident  there  had  been 
a  good  deal  of  panic  exaggeration  on  the  part  of  the  lodge- 
keeper.     It  was  equally  clear  there  had  been  much  crafty 


264  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

duplicity  practised  by  the  female  ambassador.  She  had  been 
formerly  a  domestic  in  the  employ  of  Miss  Arbuthuot's 
family,  and  recently  saw  her  advantage  in  engaging  as  house- 
keeper to  Mr.  Garden.  She  knew  his  weakness,  and  flattered 
it.  She  pretended  to  have  interviews  with  Miss  Eleanor, 
and  brought  him  cheering  messages.  In  short,  the  magis- 
trate saw  that  on  this  occasion  Mr.  Garden  was  very  nearly 
"  as  much  sinned  against  as  sinning."  Nevertheless  he 
deemed  it  prudent  to  bind  him  in  heavy  penalties  to  be  of 
the  peace  the  space  of  one  year, — a  requirement  which  he 
resignedly  fulfilled.  That  year  flew  l)y,  and  many  more,  and 
still  he  trod  his  solitary  path  through  life  unshaken  in  the 
conviction  that  Eleanor  Arbuthnot  loved  the  man  she  pub- 
licly spurned.  The  fact  that  she  never  married  another  per- 
haps strengthened  his  hallucination.  It  is  said  he  more  than 
once  travelled  secretly  to  Lough  Gooter  to  catch,  unseen,  one 
glimpse  of  her  on  the  road  or  in  the  grounds,  and  then 
returned  as  he  went. 

Tip})erary,  the  North  Hiding  especially,  is  full  of  the 
most  astonishing  stories  of  this  remarkable  character.  At 
the  time  of  the  abduction  he  was  about  fifty-four  years  of 
age.  He  was  a  compactly  built,  muscular  man;  about  five 
feet  six  inches  in  height ;  haughty,  perhaps  it  might  be  said 
overbearing,  with  straugers,  and  not  given  to  forming  friend- 
ships. Yet  he  was  warmly  regarded  by  his  dependants; 
and,  fiercely  stern  as  was  his  dealing  with  some  of  his 
tenautry,  many  of  them — those  who  experienced  his  better 
qualities — spoke  and  speak  of  him  in  the  highest  terms. 
He  was  educated  in  England,  and  on  attaining  his  majority 
found  his  property  had  been  "  under  the  courts,"  as  the 
people  say, — under  a  Ghancery  receiver, — for  several  years, 
owing  to  litigation.  The  tenants  making  some  pretext  out 
of  this  state  of  things,  thought  to  escape  paying  him  the 
rent.     He  came  home  to  Barnane,  summoned  them  all  to 


THE  ARBUTHNOT  ABDUCTION.  265 

meet  him  on  a  given  day,  and  announced  to  them  his  ulti- 
matum,— rent  or  land,  pay  or  quit.  They  had  the  repute  of 
being  a  desperate  lot,  and  they  apparently  relied  on  this  to 
intimidate  him.  The  rent  they  would  not  pay ;  the  land 
they  would  keep;  having  reasons,  they  said,  to  justify  the 
former  resolve,  and  determination  to  maintain  the  latter. 
But  they  knew  not  their  man.  He  said  nothing  more  just 
then,  but  forthwith  proceeded  to  put  Barnane  Castle  into 
fortress  condition.  Blacksmiths  and  carpenters  were  set  to 
work  to  make  the  doors  and  window-shutters  bullet-proof; 
and  when  this  was  done  a  goodly  stock  of  provisions  was 
laid  in.  Local  tradition  asserts  that  he  had  tlie  stairs  cut 
away,  and  the  interior  of  the  castle  so  arranged  that  if  the 
first  story  was  forced  he  could  retreat  to  the  next,  and,  by 
pulling  up  a  ladder,  cut  off  all  communication.  He  now 
commenced  operations  in  the  law-courts.  Ejectment  decrees 
were  taken  out  against  the  tenants,  and  the  work  of  eviction 
began.  It  Avas  open  war  between  him  and  them.  I  am  told 
that  when  any  of  "  the  enemy"  surrendered  he  not  only  re- 
stored them  to  their  land,  but  treated  them  liberally  as  to 
terms.  Those  who  refused  to  submit  were  remorselessly  ex- 
pelled. Of  course  he  was  shot  at, — again  and  again ;  but, 
with  miraculous  good  fortune,  he  always  escaped.  His  pluck, 
his  daring,  extorted  the  admiration  of  friend  and  foe.  One 
day,  as  he  was  riding  along  the  road  towards  Nenagh,  he  was 
fired  at  by  two  men  in  an  adjoining  field.  He  faced  his  horse 
round,  and,  although  it  was  truly  a  stiff  jump,  cleared  the 
fence  at  a  bound,  galloped  after  his  would-be  assassins,  struck 
one  of  them  senseless  with  a  blow  from  his  loaded  riding- 
whip,  then  overtook  the  other,  dismounted,  and,  after  a  des- 
perate struggle,  captured  him.  He  deliberately  took  off  the 
stirrup-leathers,  and  with  them  bound  his  prisoners  and 
marched  them  into  Nenagh  jail.  They  were  tried  for  the 
crime,  convicted  on  his  evidence,  and   hanged.     It  was,  I 

23 


266  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

believe,  during  this  "  war"  that  the  insurgent  tenantry  in  a 
body  marched  on  the  castle,  but  found  him  so  securely  barri- 
caded that  he  could  not  be  got  at.  They,  however,  had  pre- 
pared to  take  revenge  on  him  in  another  way.  They  had 
brought  with  them  a  number  of  horses  and  ploughs,  and 
now  commenced  to  plough  up  the  beautiful  and  extensive 
lawn  before  the  hall-door.  Mr.  Garden  had  a  swivel- 
mounted  cannon  on  the  top  of  the  castle :  he  loaded  it  with 
grape-shot  in  view  of  the  ploughing-party,  and  then  sang 
out  to  them  that  they  had  ten  minutes  to  depart.  They  un- 
yoked in  five  and  galloped  off. 

In  the  last  few  years  of  his  life  his  eccentricity  took  a 
curious  turn.  He  converted  the  castle  into  a  vast  hotel,  and 
erected  very  extensive  and  costly  Turkish  baths.  I  am  not 
sure  that  he  ever  threw  the  establishment  open  to  the  public 
in  the  ordinary  way,  but  visitors  or  tourists  passing  the  way 
were,  I  am  told,  very  hospitably  received.  Some  six  years 
ago  he  was  attacked  with  apoplexy,  and  never  rallied.  His 
death  once  more  recalled  his  name  to  public  notice;  and,  with 
all  his  failings,  the  general  sentiment  was  one  of  compassion 
and  regret  for  one  so  strangely  compounded  of  merit  and 
demerit.  I  know  not  who  succeeded  to  his  estates,  or  whether 
the  castle  and  its  beautiful  grounds  are  visited  as  of  yore ;  but 
for  many  a  generation  yet  to  come  the  story  of  his  life  and 
adventures — most  of  all  the  Rathronan  abduction — will  thrill 
listening  groups  around  the  firesides  of  Tipperary. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


THE   PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY. 


If  the  absence  of  political  life  and  action  could  be  called 
tranquillity,  or  torpor  be  deemed  repose,  Ireland  from  1852 
to  1858  enjoyed  that  peaceful  rest,  that  cessation  from  agita- 
tion, which  so  many  authorities  declared  to  be  the  one  thing 
wanting  for  her  prosjierity  and  happiness.  With  the  over- 
throw and  ruin  of  the  Tenant-Right  movement  in  1852  there 
set  in  a  state  of  things  which  ought  to  have  gladdened  the 
hearts  of  all  such  monitors.  Never  before,  since,  in  the  Eman- 
cipation campaign  of  1820-1829,  the  body  of  the  nation 
entered  into  the  purposes  and  practices  of  public  life,  had 
Ireland  been  without  some  popular  organization  or  movement 
that  gave  a  voice  to  the  national  aspirations.  This  political 
activity,  which  to  many  eyes  seemed  so  deplorable,  at  one  time 
occupied  itself  with  Catholic  Emancipation,  at  another  with 
Corporate  Reform,  at  another  with  the  Tithe  question  ;  for  a 
long  period  ^vith  Repeal,  for  a  short  one  with  Land-tenure. 
But  now  the  temple  of  Janus  w^as  closed.  Political  action 
ceased.  The  last  endeavor  of  the  Irish  masses  to  accomplish 
ameliorations  within  the  lines  of  the  constitution  had  been 
baffled  and  crushed.  By  skilful  exercise  of  "  patronage"  the 
Government  had  bought  off  the  leaders  and  exploded  the  hopes 
and  plans  of  the  Tenant  Leaguers.  No  direct  political  defeat 
could  have  accomplished  so  decisive  a  dispersion  of  the  popu- 
lar organization.  It  was  not  merely  that  the  people  were  driven 
beaten  from  the  parliamentary  field,  but  that  they  were  routed 
under  circumstances  which  forbade  a  rally.  Their  faith  in  one 
another,  their  confidence  in  leaders,  their  reliance  on  consti- 

267 


268  iV^^ir  IRELAND. 

tutional  effort, — all,  all  were  swept  away.  To  the  eye  of  the 
superficial  observer,  Ireland  was  iu  1856  more  really  and 
completely  "  pacified"  than  at  any  period  since  the  time  of 
Strongbow.  Repeal  was  buried.  Disaffection  had  disap- 
peared. Nationality  was  unmentioned.  Not  a  shout  was 
raised.  Not  even  a  village  tenant-right  club  survived.  The 
people  no  longer  interested  themselves  in  politics.  Who  went 
into  or  who  went  out  of  Parliament  concerned  them  not.  The 
"  agitator's"  voice  was  heard  no  more.  All  was  silence.  Rest 
and  peace,  some  called  it.  Sullen  indifference  and  moody 
despair  others  judged  it  to  be. 

I  do  not  believe  that  in  the  darkest  days  of  the  eighteenth 
century  a  lower  level  of  public  spirit,  a  lower  tone  of  politi- 
cal morality,  prevailed  in  Ireland  than  at  this  time.  The 
chill  of  disappointment,  the  shock  of  recent  events,  drove 
into  retirement  the  best  elements  of  public  society.  The 
fierce  violence  and  unsparing  passion  with  which  the  contro- 
versies and  resentments  arising  out  of  those  events  were  pur- 
sued belonged  less  to  regular  political  combat  than  to  a  savage 
guerilla  warfare.  In  such  a  state  of  circumstances  public  life 
was  almost  wholly  abandoned  to  the  self-seeking  and  adven- 
turous. Good  faith,  honesty,  consistency,  sincerity  in  po- 
litical affairs,  were  cynically  scoffed  at  and  derided.  '■'  Every 
one  for  himself  and  the  Castle  for  us  all"  was  the  motto  of 
the  hour.  The  political  arena  was  regarded  simply  as  a  mart 
in  Mliich  everything  went  to  the  highest  bidder;  and  the 
speculator  who  netted  the  most  gains  was  the  man  most  ap- 
plauded.    Such  Nvas  political  Ireland  iu  1856. 

The  schism  which  split  the  ranks  of  the  Young  Ireland  or 
Confederate  party  in  1848 — referred  to  in  a  previous  chapter 
— never  was  really  closed.  The  principles  developed  on  each 
hand  in  that  controversy  were  very  distinct  and  strongly 
marked.  The  bulk  of  the  national  party,  though  swept  into 
insurrection  amidst  the  fever  of  '48,  held  the  views  of  O'Brien, 


THE  PHCEXIX  CONSPIRACY.  269 

Meagher,  Dillon,  Duffy,  O'Gorman,  and  Doheny,  expressed 
in  the  Confederation  debate  of  the  4th  of  February  in  that 
year.  They  never  based  their  policy  on  revolution.  It  was 
regarded  as  a  contingency  not  to  be  shrunk  from  if  absolutely 
forced  upon  them,  but  one  so  remote  as  to  be  beyond  the 
range  of  praqtical  concern.  The  minority  embraced  rev^olu- 
tion,  not  merely  as  a  possible  contingency,  but  as  the  only  one 
to  be  contemplated  and  prepared  for.  They  laid  the  failure 
of  the  insurrection  upon  the  "  rose-water"  policy  of  Duffy 
and  O'Brien.  The  wounded  pride,  the  bitter  mortification, 
with  which  the  result  of  that  attempt  was  attended  for  them, 
intensified  their  feelings.  They  would  not  accept  what  had 
taken  place  as  any  test  whatever  of  their  policy,  principles, 
or  plans.  The  loaded  gun  had  miserably  missed  fire;  that 
was  all.  When  they  found  Gavan  Duffy,  on  his  release  from 
prison,  in  the  revived  Nation,  falling  back  on  a  constitutional 
and  parliamentary  policy,  their  anger  and  scorn  were  very 
bitter.  They  assailed  him  with  taunt  and  invective;  but  he 
carried  the  country  along  with  him,  and  O'Brien,  Meagher, 
O'Doherty,  and  other  of  the  State  prisoners  endorsed  and 
approved  his  course.  The  Separatists,  few  in  numbers,  were 
put  to  silence  for  the  time ;  but  they  continued  to  regard  with 
undisguised  hostility  the  line  of  policy  which  the  Nation 
pursued.  * 

Through  all  the  course  of  Irish  politics  from  1848  down- 
wards, the  divergence  and  conflict  of  these  two  sections  of 
the  national  party  may  be  traced,  and  have  to  be  kept  in 
mind.  Half  the  blunders  of  English  politicians,  in  dealing 
with  the  passing  incidents  of  domestic  Irish  affairs,  arise 
from  ignorance  of  this  state  of  things.  A  correct  apprecia- 
tion of  it  supplies  a  key  to  many  apparently  perplexing 
problems.  The  Constitutional  Nationalists,  looking  to  Henry 
Grattan  as  their  founder,  and  the  Revolutionary  Nationalists, 
or  Separatists,  taking  Wolfe  Tone  as  theirs,  have  operated, 

23* 


270  JV'^IF  IRELAND. 

and  still  operate,  sometimes  together,  often  in  conflict,  in  Irish 
politics,  clown  to  the  present  day. 

Amidst  the  fervor  with  which  the  people  embraced  the 
Tenant-Right  agitation  of  1850,  the  separatist  and  revolu- 
tionary principles,  momentarily  embraced  a  few  years  before, 
seemed  almost  extinguished  in  Ireland;  but  abroad  —  in 
America  and  elsewhere — the  refugees  of  the  '48  movement, 
with  one  or  two  important  exceptions,  invincibly  retained  the 
violent  determinations  of  that  time.  Two  of  these  refugees, 
Mr.  John  O'Mahony  and  Mr.  James  Stephens,  had  settled 
for  some  time  in  Paris  after  their  escape  from  Ireland  in 
1848.  They  there  fell  into  the  society  of  men  who,  during 
the  "  year  of  revolutions,"  in  various  parts  of  Europe,  from 
A^ienna  to  Rome,  had  played  a  part  much  like  their  own ; 
and  soon,  in  what  may  be  called  the  central  training-school 
of  European  revolutionism,  they  learned  that  the  way  to 
begin  was  by  a  secret  society.  After  a  residence  of  a  few 
years  in  the  French  capital,  O'iNIahony  })roceeded  to  Amer- 
ica. Stephens  quietly  returned  to  Ireland,  and  engaged  him- 
self as  private  tutor  to  a  gentleman  residing  near  Killarney. 
Before  parting,  they  had  both  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
if  ever  their  principles  were  to  have  another  opportunity  of 
pronnilgation  in  Ireland  it  should  be  in  accordance  with  the 
skilful  tactics  they  had  learned  in  Paris.  But  they  griev- 
ously feared  that  what  they  execrated  as  the  retrograde  move- 
ment of  the  popular  party  at  home,  under  Duffy's  guidance, 
had  rendered  any  such  contingency  hopelessly  remote. 

They  little  thought  how  near  it  was  at  hand.  The  over- 
throw and  virtual  suppression  of  the  Tenant  League,  utterly 
breaking  the  hope  of  the  people  in  such  political  efforts, 
cleared  the  field  and  removed  the  obstacles  which  the  dream- 
ing conspirators  thus  deplored.  With  joy  they  saw  the  peo- 
ple abandon  public  politics,  and  well  knew  how,  brooding  in 
despair,  they  would  weigh  the   miseries  contested  elections 


THE  PHCENIX   CONSPIRACY.  271 

had  brought  on  their  heads  against  the  worst  that  could  be- 
fall  them  on  a  more  violent  course.  The  "calm"  of  Irish 
politics  from  '52  to  '58,  that  so  delighted  superficial  observ- 
ers, was  in  truth  the  worst  symptom  in  the  course  of  half  a 
century.  Still,  the  disheartenment  was  so  great,  the  revul- 
sion of  feeling  so  complete,  that  although  the  people  had 
given  up  constitutional  efforts  it  was  by  no  means  clear  they 
would  care  to  try  any  other.  For  a  long  while  no  opportu- 
nity presented  itself  for  launching  the  revolutionary  experi- 
ment. 

In  the  summer  of  1857  Mr.  Smith  O'Brien — who  had 
previously  been  liberated  from  his  confinement  at  Hobart 
Town,  on  condition  of  not  returning  to  Ireland — was  allow'cd 
to  return  under  an  unconditional  amnesty.  His  former  status 
was  fully  restored  in  every  respect,  except  a  special  exclusion 
from  his  otherwise  rightful  rank  and  title  as  brother  of  a 
peer ;  his  eldest  brother  having  quite  recently,  on  the  death 
of  the  Marquis  of  Thomond,  become  Lord  Inchiquin.  Almost 
the  only  sign  of  popular  interest  in  politics  which  could  be 
noted  in  Ireland  at  the  time  was  the  satisfaction  which  his 
return  called  forth,  and  the  tender  to  him  forthwith  of  the 
representation  of  an  Irish  constituency  in  Parliament.  He, 
however,  refused  to  resume  any  prominent  position  in  active 
public  life,  although  he  by  no  means  disclaimed  a  deep  feel- 
ing of  interest  in  Irish  questions.  He  devoted  the  summer 
of  1858  to  a  quiet  tour  through  the  country,  evidently  curi- 
ous to  see  what  changes  the  ten  eventful  years  just  past  had 
brought  about.  In  several  places  he  was  welcomed  with 
manifestations  of  respect  and  affection,  though  he  avoided 
and  seemed  to  deprecate  "  public  demonstrations"  of  any 
sort.  At  Clonmel,  the  town  in  which  he  had  been  sentenced 
to  execution  as  a  traitor,  he  was  presented  with  an  address,  to 
which  he  delivered  a  reply  marked  by  that  quiet  dignity  and 
that  inflexibility  of  public  principle  which  were  with  him  old 


272  iV^JSTT  IRELAND. 

characteristics.  He  referred  sadly  to  the  incidents  of  '48, 
but  proudly  affirmed  that  the  convictions  and  principles  for 
which  he  was  then  ready  to  lay  down  his  life — the  right  of 
Ireland  to  her  native  constitutional  form  of  government — 
were  firm  and  unshaken  as  ever.  This  avowal  called  forth 
a  remarkable  article  in  the  Times, — remarkable  read  by  the 
light  of  events  near  at  hand.  The  great  English  journal 
declared  the  roar  of  this  toothless  lion  need  disturb  no  one. 
Irish  disaffection  was  dead  and  buried, — would  never  trouble 
England  more.  The  tranquillity,  the  contentment,  the  loyalty 
of  the  Irish  people  showed  that  the  days  of  agitators  and 
rebels  were  past,  never  to  return. 

While  the  Times,  exultant  in  these  assumed  facts,  was 
pelting  them  tauntingly  at  O'Brien,  the  Government  in  Dub- 
lin Castle  were  making  preparations  to  pounce  upon  a  new 
conspiracy.  Within  a  month  we  were  once  more  in  the  midst 
of  proclamations,  police  razzias,  arrests,  and  State  trials. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Indian  mutiny  had  greatly  excited 
the  revolutionary  party  among  Irishmen  at  home  and  in 
America.  It  looked  like  the  beginning  of  a  protracted  and 
perilous  struggle  for  England ;  perhaps  of  her  overthrow.  On 
this  occasion,  as  during  the  Crimean  War,  Ireland  was  de- 
nuded of  troops.  Here,  they  reflected,  were  two  signal  op- 
portunities for  revolt  lost  through  want  of  ])reparation.  It 
was  determined  forthwith  to  make  a  beginning  with  the  long- 
meditated  project  of  a  secret  society. 

Some  young  men — mercantile  assistants  and  others — in  the 
town  of  Skibbereen  had,  about  this  time,  established  a  politi- 
cal club  or  reading-room,  called  the  Phoenix  National  and 
Literary  Society.  It  might  have  gone  the  way  of  many  a 
similar  institution,  and  never  been  heard  of  beyond  the  local 
precincts,  but  for  a  visit  which  Mr.  James  Stephens  paid  to 
that  neighborhood  in  May,  1858.  He  had  been  struck  by 
the  rather  independent  and  defiant  spirit  of  some  observations 


THE  PHCENIX  CONSTIRACV.  273 

reported  from  one  of  its  meetings,  and  judged  that  among 
these  men  he  would  find  material  for  the  work  he  had  in 
hand.  Foremost  in  a  sort  of  careless  audacity  and  resolute 
will  was  one,  already  quite  popular,  or,  as  "  the  authorities" 
in  Skibbereen  would  say,  a  "  ringleader,"  with  young  men 
of  his  class, — Jeremiah  Donovan.  He  was  not  only  given  to 
Gaelic  studies,  but  he  exhibited  a  love  for  historico-genea- 
logical  research  which  was  quite  alarming  to  the  local  gentry. 
He  very  shortly  resumed  the  "  O"  to  his  name ;  and,  as  his 
people  belonged  to  Ross,  he  adopted  the  distinguishing  Gaelic 
affix  "Rossa,"*  thenceforward  signing  his  name — one  now 
well  known  in  Ireland,  England,  and  Scotland — Jeremiah 
O'Donovan,  Rossa." 

One  evening  in  May,  1858,  O'Donovan — or  "  Rossa,"  as 
it  may  be  more  convenient  to  call  him,  although  he  was  not 
generally  known  by  this  affix  for  some  time  after — was  called 
upon  by  a  companion  who  had  something  important  to  com- 
municate under  the  seal  of  secrecy.  A  mysterious  "stranger" 
had  come  to  town  on  a  startling  mission.  The  Irishmen  in 
America,  he  declared,  had  resolved  to  aid  the  men  at  home 
in  achieving  the  independence  of  Ireland,  and  the  aid  was  to 
consist  of  arms  and  of  men.  Rossa  goes  on  to  tell  the  rest : 
"  If  we  had  a  certain  number  of  men  sworn  to  fight,  there 
would  be  an  equal  number  of  arms  in  Ireland  for  these  men 
when  enrolled,  and  an  invading  force  of  from  five  to  ten  thous- 
and men  before  the  start.  The  arms  were  to  be  in  the  country 
before  the  men  would  be  asked  to  stir ;  they  would  not  be 
given  into  their  hands,  but  were  to  be  kept  in  hiding-places 
until  the  appointed  time,  when  every  Centre  could  take  his 
men  to  tlie  spot  and  get  the  weapons.     As  soon  as  we  had 


*  Subdivisions  of  Irish  families  or  clans  were  sometimes  distinguished, 
one  from  another,  in  this  way;  as  "O'Connor,  Kerry,"  "  O'SuUivan, 
Bear  (or  Beara),"  etc. 
s 


274  ^EW  IRELAND. 

enrolled  the  men  willing  to  fight,  we  were  to  get  military 
instructors  to  teach  us  how  to  do  as  soldiers." 

Nothing  could  possibly  have  been  more  to  the  heart  of 
Rossa  than  this  enterprise.  He  jumped  at  it,  he  says,  "and 
next  day  I  inoculated  a  few  others,  whom  I  told  to  go  and 
do  likewise."  Before  a  month  had  elapsed,  out  of  one  hun- 
dred young  men  on  the  books  of  the  "  Literary  Society," 
ninety  had  been  sworn  in  to  this  secret  organization. 

Such  was  the  start  of  Fenianism.  The  "  mysterious  stranger" 
was  Mr.  James  Stephens. 

Mr.  Stephens  well  enough  knew  that  the  national  party,  so 
far  as  it  was  represented  by  the  Nation  newspaper, —  by  Smith 
O'Brien  and  Gavan  Duffy, — would  resent  this  effort ;  that,  in 
fact,  the  feud  between  the  two  sections  was  sure  to  be  resusci- 
tated over  such  a  project.  Ordinarily  it  would  be  impossible 
to  make  much  headway  with  a  national  or  popular  movement, 
open  or  secret,  which  the  Nation  opposed  ;  but  there  were 
reasons  for  making  light  of  any  such  difficulty  noAv.  The 
break-down  of  Mr.  Duffy's  parliamentary  policy,  through  the 
Sadleir-Keogh  betrayal,  was  not  unnaturally  presumed  to 
have  weakened  the  influence  of  the  Nation  ;  and  I,  who  had 
but  a  short  time  previously  succeeded  to  Mr.  Duffy's  position 
in  the  Nation  office,  was  young,  little  known,  and  devoid  of 
his  great  experience  and  influence.  In  the  southwestern 
angle  of  the  island,  formed  by  portions  of  Cork  and  Kerry, 
a  very  brisk  enrolment  went  on;  the  "secrecy,"  however, 
being  absurdly  inefficient.  In  the  course  of  the  summer  I 
was  made  aware  that  some  persons  had  been  freely  using  the 
name  of  Mr.  Smith  O'Brien,  of  INIr.  John  Mitchel,  myself, 
and  others  in  mysterious  whispers  about  the  power  of  the 
movement  and  the  approval  given  to  it.  Whether  such  idle 
stories  were  worth  contradicting  was  doubtful ;  yet  it  seemed 
a  serious  moral  responsibility  to  remain  silent.  I  could  not 
tell  what  Mr.  Mitchel's  views  might  be, — he  was  in  America, 


THE  PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY.  275 

— ^but  I  thought  it  likely  he  would  favor  such  a  scheme.* 
The  views  of  the  other  gentlemen — of  Smith  O'Brien  espe- 
cially— I  well  knew  to  be  utterly  averse  to  anything  of  the 
kind.  Meanwhile  a  new  urgency  appeared.  The  Catholic 
Bishop  of  Kerry,  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Moriarty,  called  upon 
me  one  day  to  say  that  within  the  past  hour  he  had  heard 
from  a  Government  official  a  minute  account  of  the  "  Phoenix 
Society"  conspiracy  in  his  diocese.  "  It  is  no  use  pooh-pooh- 
ing such  work,"  said  he  :  "  the  Government  are  preparing  to 
treat  it  seriously,  and  are  in  possession  of  full  information. 
A  friendly  M^arning  in  the  Nation  may  disperse  the  whole 
danger,  and  bring  these  young  men  back  to  reason.  At  all 
events,  you  will  save  others  from  being  involved  in  the  catas- 
trophe." Other  newspapers  had  already  been  making  public 
references  to  the  subject:  still,  I  disliked  the  role  of  "alarm- 
ist." I  consulted  with  Mr.  John  B.  Dillon,  Mr.  Kevin 
O'Doherty,  and  other  such  friends  near  at  hand,  and  wrote  to 
Mr.  Smith  O'Brien,  stating  the  Ciise,  and  asking  him  what  I 
ought  to  do, — whether  more  harm  than  good  might  come  of 
any  puljiic  intervention.  The  first-named  gentleman  deemed 
disclaiming  unnecessary,  and  doubted  the  wisdom  or  efficacy 
of  public  interference.  The  Catholic  clergy,  however, 
throughout  the  whole  district  aflPected  by  the  secret  organi- 
zation, had  determined  to  intervene  at  once  and  severely. 
Simultaneously  from  the  altars  of  the  Catholic  churches  the 
whole  business  was  vehemently  denounced,  and  the  people 
warned  to  withdraw  from  and  shun  it.  Mr.  O'Brien's  an- 
swer to  my  confidential  communication  was  a  letter,  which  he 
wished  to  be  instantly  published,  it  being  his  opinion  that  we 
were  bound  to  reprehend  all  attempts  to  identify  the  Irish 
national  cause  with  such  an  organization.  I  hesitated  no 
longer  ;  I  not  only  published  Mr.  O'Brien's  letter,  as  he  de- 

*  In  this  I  was  wroncCi  hs  I  afterwards  discovered. 


276  JV£Tr  IRELAND. 

sired,  but  in  strong  terms  appealed  to  patriotic  Irishmen  to 
avoid  the  hopeless  perils  and  the  demoralizing  effects  of  secret 
societies.  I  was,  in  the  same  sense  as  the  national  leaders  had 
ever  been,  as  "  seditious"  as  any  of  them  in  my  hostility  to 
the  imperial  scheme  of  destroying  our  national  autonomy,  but 
I  had  not  studied  in  vain  the  history  of  secret  oath-bound 
associations.  I  regarded  them  -with  horror.  I  knew  all 
that  could  be  said  as  to  their  advantages  in  revolutionizing  a 
country ;  but  even  in  the  firmest  and  best  of  hands  they  had 
a  direct  tendency  to  demoralization,  and  were  often,  on  the 
whole,  more  perilous  to  society  than  open  tyranny.  In  join- 
ing issue  on  tiiis  occasion  with  the  hidden  chiefs  of  the  move- 
ment, I  knew  I  was  setting  a  great  deal  on  the  cast;  yet  I 
did  not  know  all.  Xo  action  of  all  my  life  bore  consequences 
more  full  of  suffering  and  sacrifice  for  me  than  did  this 
throughout  subsequent  years.  Conducting  such  a  journal  as 
the  Nation,  I  had  no  choice  as  to  silence.  An  equivocal  atti- 
tude would  have  been  despicably  mean  and  cowardly.  I  was 
call(;d  upon  to  speak  and  act,  under  not  only  the  public  but 
the  conscientious  constraint  of  duty,  and  I  did  so.  The  result 
proved  that  tiie  influence  of  the  Naiion  had  been  underrated ; 
or,  perhaps,  I  should  say,  its  influence  in  co-operation  with 
the  appeals  of  the  Catholic  clergy.  The  enrolment  was 
stopped,  and  it  seemed  for  a  while  as  if  the  movement  had 
been  relinquished.  So  great  had  been  the  effect  of  the  firm 
but  friendly  remonstrances  addressed  to  the  people,  that  I 
verily  believed  we  should  hear  no  more  of  the  Phoenix  So- 
ciety. Xot  so,  however.  The  Government,  having  long  pre- 
viously got  its  hand  upon  the  business,  was  not  willing  to 
forego  the  sensational  performance  of  crushing  a  conspiracy 
against  its  power.  On  the  3d  of  December,  1858,  a  vice- 
regal proclamation  appeared,  declaring  that  such  a  public 
danger  existed.  In  a  few  days  after  a  simultaneous  raid  was 
made  upon  the  Phoenix  men  in  Skibbereen,  Bantry,  Kenmare, 


THE  PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY.  £77 

and  Killarney.  The  kingdom  was  alarmed  anew  by  the 
spectacle  of  terrorizing  arrests  and  State  prosecutions.  Tliis 
was  very  generally  regarded  as  "  forcing  an  open  gate,"  and  the 
severities  visited  upon  some  of  the  prisoners — young  men  of 
excellent  character,  and  many  of  them  warmly  regarded  in 
their  native  districts — excited  considerable  public  sympathy. 
The  Government,  however,  seemed  determined  to  treat  the 
affair  in  a  very  serious  spirit.  A  special  commission  was 
issued  for  the  counties  of  Kerry  and  Cork,  in  each  of  which 
some  score  of  prisoners  awaited  trial.  In  March,  1859,  the 
Avhole  array  of  Crown  counsel,  led  by  the  Attorney-General, 
Mr.  Whiteside,  M.P.,  commenced  proceedings  at  Tralee. 
The  first  prisoner  arraigned  was  a  national  school-teacher 
named  Daniel  O'Sullivan.*  The  trial,  which  was  very  pro- 
tracted, was  signalized  by  the  remarkably  able  defence  of  the 
prisoner  by  Mr.  Thomas  O'Hagan,  Q.C.,  some  ten  or  eleven 
years  subsequently  Lord  Chancellor  of  Ireland,  and  now 
Baron  O'Hagan. f  The  story  disclosed  by  the  Crown  was 
simply  that  in  the  districts  already  mentioned  numbers  of 
young  men  were  s\vorn  into  a  secret  society  such  as  Rossa 
describes,  and  that  small  parties  of  them  were  in  the  habit  of 
going  through  military  drill,  chiefly  at  night-time,  but  some- 
times in  the  day.     Beyond  this  stage  the  business  had  not 

*It  was  a  coincidence  that  the  informer  whose  evidence  was  adduced 
to  convict  him  bore  the  same  name. 

f  By  one  act  of  his  legislative  career  Lord  O'Hagan  may  truly  be  said 
to  have  writ  his  name  large  on  the  page  of  our  modern  history.  No  man 
of  this  generation  has  done  more  to  surround  the  law  and  its  administra- 
tion with  popular  confidence  and  respect  than  he  by  his  great  measure 
of  Jury  Keform.  The  Irish  people  were  thereby  assured  for  the  first 
time  that  jury  maniymlation  was  not  to  render  a  Crown  prosecution  a 
game  with  loaded  dice.  When  i^orU  t>'±lagan's  act  first  went  into  oper- 
ation, some  jars  and  hitches  occurred,  and  partisans  of  the  old  system 
called  out  "failure."  But  it  has  long  since  become  the  object  of  uni- 
versal praise,  as  a  great  and  statesmanlike  piece  of  legislation. 

21 


278  ^^W  IRELAND. 

progressed,  and  as  far  as  could  be  known  the  organization 
had  not  extended  elsewhere  in  Ireland.  The  leader  was  a 
mysterious  personage,  referred  to  generally  as  "  the  Sea  vac," 
— Gaelic  for  hawk,  and  pronounced  "  Slieuk" — but  pretty 
well  known  to  be  none  other  than  Mr.  Stephens.  The  jury 
disagreed,  and  the  further  trials  were  postponed.  At  the  next 
Kerry  assizes,  the  prisoner,  O'Sullivan,  finding  the  Crown 
empanelling  an  exclusively  Protestant  jury, — ordering  every 
Catholic  who  came  to  the  book  to  "stand  by," — declined  to 
proceed  with  any  defence.  He  said  this  was  not  "  trial  by 
jury,"  as  supposed  in  law,  and  he  would  not  recognize  it  as 
such  by  defence.  The  proceedings,  consequently,  were  tarae 
and  brief.  He  was  at  once  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  ten 
years'  penal  servitude.* 

When,  some  months  later  on,  the  trial  of  the  Cork  pris- 
oners approached,  their  counsel  and  other  friends  urged  them 
strongly  to  plead  guilty.  In  the  first  place,  the  funds  pub- 
licly collectetl  to  insure  fair  legal  advocacy  for  the  accused 
had  been  consumed  by  the  protracted  trial  of  O'Sullivan  at 
Tralee.  In  the  next  place,  it  was  represented  to  them  that 
in  consideration  of  such  a  course  on  their  part  the  Crown 
would  certainly  be  content  to  record  the  conviction  and  lib- 
erate them  "to  appear  Avhen  called  on,"  and,  moreover,  would 
probably  commute  the  sentence  on  their  comrade  O'Sullivan. 
On  an  undertaking  or  promise  to  this  latter  effect — very 
tardily  complied  with  by  the  Gtn'crnment  afterwards — the 
suggestion  or  compromise  was  adopted.  Rossa  and  his  com- 
panions pleaded  guilty,  and  were  released.  The  excitement 
which  the  prosecutions  occasioned  passed  away;  no  more  was 
heard  of  the  Phoenix  enrolment.  The  attempt,  such  as  it 
was,  very  evidently  was  abandoned.     We  all  felicitated  our- 

*  Between  1848  and  1858  "transportation  beyond  the  seas"  was  abol- 
ished, and  penal  servitude  took  its  place  as  a  punishment. 


THE  PHCENIX  CONSPIRACY.  279 

selves  that  the  curtain  fell  on  no  worse  results,  no  wider  mis- 
chief, no  more  protracted  punishments.  Foolish  was  the 
best  of  our  wisdom  in  thinking  this  was  the  end.  We  had 
seen  only  the  first  act  in  the  astonishing  drama  of  Irish 
Fenianism. 


CHAPTER    XYIII. 

PAPAL    IRELAND. 

Of  all  Catholic  nations  or  countries  in  the  world — the 
Tyrol  alone  excepted — Ireland  is  perhaps  the  most  Papal,  the 
most  "  Ultramontane."  In  designations  bestowed  by  Roman 
Pontiffs  others  hold  high  rank.  The  King  of  France  was 
called  "  the  Eldest  Son  of  the  Church ;"  the  King  of  Spain 
is  "  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty ;"  and  the  Sovereign  of  Eng- 
land to  this  day  retains  a  Papal  title  which  declares  the  bearer 
to  be  Defender  of  the  Roman  doctrines  against  Protestant- 
ism. But  these  titles  represent  little  of  reality  now.  In 
most  cases  what  are  called  "  Catholic  nations"  are  merely 
countries  in  which  Catholicity  continues  to  be  the  State  re- 
ligion and  is  the  form  of  faith  professed  by  the  bulk  of  tli6 
population. 

In  Ireland,  on  the  other  liand,  religious  conviction — what 
may  be  called  active  Catholicism — marks  the  population, — 
enters  into  their  daily  life  and  thought  and  action.  The 
churciies  are  crowded  as  well  by  men  as  by  women ;  and  in 
every  sacrament  and  ceremony  of  their  religion  participation 
is  extensive  and  earnest.  Reverence  for  the  sacerdotal  char- 
acter is  so  deep  and  strong  as  to  be  called  "superstitious"  by 
observers  who  belong  to  a  different  faith ;  and  devotion  to 
the  Pope,  attachment  to  the  Roman  See,  is  probably  more  in- 
tense in  Ireland  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  habitable  globe, 
"  the  Leonine  City"  itself  not  excluded. 

In  1859  the  Irish  people  found  themselves  in  a  strange 
dilemma,  between  symi^athy  with  France  on  the  one  hand, 
and  apprehensions  for  the  Pope  on  the  other.  At  the  New 
280 


PAPAL   IRELAND.  281 

Year's  receptions  in  the  Tuileries,  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  by 
a  remark  to  Baron  Hiibner,  regretting  that  the  relations 
between  France  and  Austria  were  not  more  satisfactory,  set 
all  Europe  in  a  ferment.  War — war  between  France  and 
Italy  and  Austria — was  plainly  at  hand.  England  oiFered 
her  accustomed  mediation,  which  was,  of  course,  accepted  by 
all  the  parties,  not  one  of  whom,  however,  slackened  its 
preparations  or  dreamt  for  a  moment  of  desisting.  Three 
months  were  given  to  diplomatic  fooling,  till  the  campaign 
season  might  be  reached,  each  side  trying  how  to  manoeuvre  the 
other  into  an  appearance  of  "  aggression."  At  length,  on  the 
9th  of  April,  fifty  thousand  men  set  out  from  Vienna  for  Lom- 
bardy,  and  next  day  sixty  thousand  more  followed.  On  the 
21st  an  Austrian  ultimatum  was  despatched  to  Turin,  calling 
on  Piedmont  to  disarm  the  menacing  forces  it  had  been  as- 
sembling for  some  time.  To  this  Victor  Emmanuel  replied 
on  the  25th  by  an  address  to  his  army,  declaring  hostilities 
against  Austria.  Count  Cavour  had  meanwhile  telegraphed 
to  the  French  emperor,  "  Help  !  Help !  The  Austrians  are 
upon  us !"  In  less  than  twenty-four  hours  the  French  army 
marched  from  Paris  for  Italy.  On  the  same  day  the  Austrians 
at  one  point  and  the  Sardinians  at  another  crossed  the  Ticino. 
In  a  brief  campaign  the  Austrians  were  driven  within  the 
Quadrilateral.  Montebello  was  fought  on  the  20th  May, 
Palestro  on  the  31st,  Magenta  on  the  4th  of  June,  and  Sol- 
ferino  on  the  24th.  Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  victories.  Napo- 
leon stopped  and  proffered  peace.  The  Treaty  of  Villafranca, 
on  the  11th  of  July,  subsequently  ratified  at  Zurich,  closed 
the  Italian  war  of  1859. 

From  May  to  July  a  curious  struggle  of  sympathies  ])re- 
vailed  in  Ireland.  The  Catholic  prelates  and  clergy  de- 
nounced the  conduct  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  as  utterly 
perfidious.  His  Majesty's  assurances  of  safety  and  protection 
for  the  Pope  were  likened  to  the  embraces  of  a  Judas ;  for  that 

24* 


282  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

when  Francis  Joseph  had  been  crushed,  Pio  Nono's  turn  for 
attack  and  destruction  would  come,  they  emphatically  pre- 
dicted. Still,  popular  feeling  in  Ireland  followed  the  French 
flag,  especially  when  it  was  found  that  a  Franco-Irishman, 
General  Patrick  MacMahon,  was  placed  in  command  of  a 
division.  The  news  of  the  battle  of  Magenta — that  Mac- 
Mahon had  turned  the  tide  of  victory,  had  saved  the  French 
Emperor,  and  had  been  named  Marshal  of  France  and  Duke 
of  JNIagenta  for  so  memorable  an  achievement — evoked  bound- 
less joy  in  Ireland.  Bonfires  blazed  on  the  hills  of  Clare,  the 
ancient  home  of  his  ancestors.  His  name  became  a  popular 
watchword  all  over  the  island.  In  the  Nation  we  published, 
from  searches  in  the  public  archives  at  home  and  in  France,  an 
authentic  record  of  his  family,  from  the  capitulation  of  Lim- 
erick to  the  victory  of  Magenta.*     A  proposition  that  our 


*"  Patrick  MacMahon,  of  Torrodile,  in  the  county  of  Limerick,  was 
married  to  Margaret,  daughter  of  John  O'Suilivan,  of  Bantry,  in  the 
county  of  Cork,  of  the  House  of  O'Suilivan  ])eare.  Honorahly  identi- 
fied with  the  cause  of  the  last  of  the  Stuarts,  he  sheathed  his  sword  at  the 
Treaty  of  Limerick,  and  retired,  with  his  wife, — '  a  lady,'  say  the  records, 
'of  the  rarest  beauty  and  virtue,' — to  the  friendly  shores  of  France.  Here 
his  son,  John  MacMahon,  of  Autun,  married  an  heiress,  and  was  created 
Count  d'Equilly.  On  the  28th  of  September,  1749,  the  Count  applied 
to  the  Irish  Government  of  that  day — accompanying  his  application 
with  the  necessary  fees,  etc.,  for  the  officers  of  '  Ulster  King-at-Arms' — 
to  have  his  genealogy,  together  with  the  records,  etc.,  of  his  family,  duly 
authenticated,  collected,  and  recorded  with  all  necessary  verification,  in 
order  that  his  children  and  their  posterity  in  France  might  have  all- 
sufficient  proof  of  the  proud  fact  that  they  were  Irish.  All  this  was 
accordingly  done,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  records  in  Birmingham  Tower, 
Dublin  Castle,  countersigned  by  the  then  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland, 
and  the  various  other  requisite  signatures.  In  those  records  he  is  de- 
scribed as  of  '  the  noble  family,  paternally  of  MacMahon  of  Clonderala 
(in  Clare),  and  maternally  of  the  noble  family  of  O'Suilivan  Beare.' 
He  was  the  grandfather  of  the  Marshal  Duke  of  Magenta.  The  Count's 
genealogy  commences  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  traces 
him  through  eight  generations  as  follows:  Terence  MacMahon,  propri- 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  283 

people  should  present  the  Franco-Irish  marshal  with  a  sword 
of  honor  was  responded  to  with  unexampled  enthusiasm. 
Five  hundred  pounds  were  called  for ;  nearly  seven  hundred 
were  subscribed ;  and  a  really  magnificent  sword  and  scabbard 
were  manufactured,  from  designs  specially  furnished  by  an 


etor  of  Clonderala,  married  Helena,  daughter  of  Maurice  Fitzgerald, 
Earl  of  Kildare,  died  1472,  and  was  interred  in  the  Monastery  of  Ashe- 
lin,  in  Munster.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Donatus  MacMahon, 
who  married  Honora  O'Brien,  of  the  noble  family  of  Thomond  ;  and  his 
son,  Terence  MacMahon,  Esq.,  married  Joanna,  daughter  of  John  Mac- 
Namara,  Esq.,  of  Dohaghtin,  commonly  styled  'MacNamara  Eeagh,' 
and  had  a  son  Bernard  MacMahon,  Esq.,  whose  wife  was  Margarita, 
daughter  of  Donatus  O'Brien  of  Daugh.  Mortogh  MacMahon,  son  of 
Bernard,  married  Eleanora,  daughter  of  William  O'Nelan  of  Emri, 
colonel  of  a  regiment  of  horse  in  the  army  of  Charles  I.,  and  was  father 
of  Maurice  MacMahon,  Esq.,  whose  wife  Helena  was  daughter  of  Mau- 
rice Fitzgerald,  Esq.,  of  Ballinoe,  Knight  of  Glinn.  Mortogh  MacMa- 
hon, son  of  Maurice,  married  Helena,  daughter  of  Emanuel  MacSheehy, 
Esq.,  of  Ballylinan,  and  was  father  of  the  above-named  Patrick  Mac- 
Mahon, who  married  Margarita,  daughter  of  John  O'SuUivan,  Esq., 
mother  of  John,  first  Count  d'Equilly.  The  descent  of  the  Count  Mac- 
Mahon, maternally,  through  the  O'Sullivans  is  as  follows :  Mortogh 
O'Sullivan  Beare,  of  Bantry,  in  the  county  of  Cork,  married  Maryann, 
daughter  of  James  Lord  Desmond,  and  dying  was  interred,  1541,  in  the 
Convent  of  Friars  Minors,  Cork.  His  son,  John  O'Sullivan,  of  Bantry, 
married  Joanna,  daughter  of  Gerald  de  Courcey,  Baron  of  Kinsale,  and 
died  1578,  leaving  Daniel  O'Sullivan,  Esq.,  his  son,  who  married  Anna, 
daughter  of  Christopher  O'Driscoll,  of  Baltimore,  in  the  county  Cork, 
Esq.,  and  died  at  Madrid,  leaving  his  son  John  O'Sullivan,  of  Bantry, 
Esq.,  who  married  Margaret,  daughter  of  James  O'Donovan,  of  Ros- 
carbery,  Esq.  Bartholomew  O'Sullivan,  son  of  John,  was  colonel  in 
the  army  of  James  II.  at  the  siege  of  Limerick,  and  married  Helena, 
daughter  of  Thomas  Fitzmaurice,  Baron  of  Kerry,  by  whom  he  had 
Major  John  O'Sullivan  of  Bantry,  who  married  Honoria,  daughter  of 
Robert  MacCarty,  of  'Castro  Leonino  (Castlelyons),  in  the  county  of 
Cork,  Esq.,  grandson  of  Daniel  MacCarty,  Lord  of  Glancare,  and  Mar- 
garet, his  wife,  daughter  of  Donogh  Lord  Desmond,  and  died  1731.' 
Their  daughter  was  Margarita,  who  married  Patrick  MacMahon,  Esq., 
of  Torrodile." 


284  JV^£TF  IRELAND. 

Irish  artist,  Mr.  E.  Fitzpatrick.  The  Marshal,  on  being  made 
aware  of  the  proposed  compliment,  intimated  that,  subject  to 
the  requisite  permission  of  the  Emperor,  he  would  be  truly 
happy  to  receive  this  mark  of  regard  from  his  anoiens  compa- 
triotes,  as  he  styled  the  Irish  people.*  The  Emperor,  in  a  very 
marked  way,  assented,  and  on  the  2d  of  September,  1860,  my 
brother,  Mr.  T.  D.  Sullivan,  and  Dr.  George  Sigerson,  a  depu- 
tation from  the  Irish  committee,  proceeded  to  France  to  make 
the  formal  presentation.  The  Marshal  was  at  the  time  in  com- 
mand at  Chalons,  and  to  honor  the  arrival  of  the  Irish  de- 
putation on  such  an  errand  tlie  camp  was  enjHe.  The  formal 
presentation  took  place  at  headquarters.  An  addres>;,  en- 
grossed in  Irish  and  French,  and  signed  on  behalf  of  the 
Dublin  committee  by  The  O'Donoghue,  M.P.,  chairman,  and 
by  Mr.  P.  J.  Smyth  and  INIr.  T.  D.  Sullivan,  hon.  secretaries, 
was  read  by  one  of  the  deputation.  The  Marshal  was  visibly 
affected,  and,  with  a  voice  betraying  considerable  emotion,  he 
re])lied  as  follows  rf 

"  Gentlemen, — I  am  most  deeply  touched  by  the  sentiments 
which  you  have  just  expressed  to  me;  and  I  pray  that  you 
will  tell  the  Irish  whom  you  represent  how  grateful  I  feel  for 
the  testimony  of  esteem  and  sympathy  which  you  offer  me  in 
their  name.     This   testimony,  by  its  spontaneous  character, 


*  Je  dois  commencer  par  vous  dire  que  je  suis  excessivement  reconnais- 
sant  de  ce  temoignage  d'intcret  de  la  part  d'anciens  compatriotes  avec 
lesquels  je  n'ai  eu  depuis  lon^-temps  que  des  rapports  indirects." 

f  "  Messieurs, — Je  suis  on  ne  peut  plus  touche  des  sentiments  que  vous 
venez  de  m'exprimer,  et  je  vous  prie  de  dire  aux.  Irlandais  que  vous  repre- 
sentez  combien  je  suis  reconnaissant  du  temoignage  d'estime  et  sympathie 
que  vous  m'oflfrez  en  leur  nom.  Ce  temoignage  par  sa  spontaneite  m'a 
prouve  que  La  Verte  Erinn  avait  conservee  ces  idees  chevalresques,  cette 
vivacite  et  cette  chaleur  de  coeur  qui  I'ont  de  tout  temps  distingue. 

"  Je  laisserai,  un  jour,  a  mon  fils  aine,  Patrice,  cette  magnilique  epee. 
EUe  sera  pour  lui,  comme  elle  est  pour  moi,  un  gage  nouveau  des  liens 
etroits  qui  doivent  I'unir  a  jamais  au  noble  pays  de  ses  ancetres," 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  285 

proves  to  me  that  Green  Erin  has  preserved  those  chivalrous 
ideas,  that  vivacity,  and  that  warmth  of  heart  which  have 
ever  distinguished  her. 

"  I  will  leave  one  day  to  my  eldest  son,  Patrick,  this  mag- 
nificent sword.  It  will  be  for  him,  as  it  is  for  myself,  a  new 
pledge  of  those  clos#  ties  which  should  unite  him  forever  to 
the  noble  country  of  his  ancestors." 

The  deputation,  together  with  some  friends  who  had  accom- 
panied them  from  Paris,  were  entertained  at  a  splendid  ban- 
quet, to  which  he  had  invited  to  meet  them  quite  a  number 
of  French  officers  and  noblemen  of  Irish  lineage, — Command- 
ant Dillon,  General  O'Farrell,  General  Sutton  de  Clonard, — 
men  whose  names  proclaimed  at  least  their  Irish  origin, 
although  Ireland  they  had  never  seen.  The  hero  of  Magenta 
proved  to  be  quite  conversant  with  Irish  history,  poetry,  and 
literature.  "  C'etait  un  pays  tout-a-fait  po^tique,"  said  he, 
addressing  a  French  general ;  "  it  was  a  land  of  poetry,  which ' 
character  it  has  not  even  yet  lost :  its  ancient  laws  were  often 
written  in  verse,  and  the  bards  ranked  next  to  royalty." 

That  he  could  turn  a  joke  with  quick  humor  was  shown 
by  his  play  upon  the  French  word  "  eau"  and  the  Irish  f)re- 
nominal  "O."  "He  had  been  making  particular  inquiries," 
says  a  member  of  the  deputation,  "  about  the  signification  of 
the  '  O'  and  '  Mac ;'  and  on  their  origin  being  explained  to 
him,  he  mentioned  that  some  persons,  when  they  saw  his 
name,  said,  '  That  is  a  Scotch  name.'  This,  he  said,  was 
absurd,  of  course ;  but  were  there  not  other  names  in  Ireland 
having  Mac  prefixed  ?  He  was  answered  there  were  many 
such, — Mac  Carthy,  Mac  Guire,  etc. ;  but  that  it  was,  indeed, 
remarkable  enough  that  the  Scots  showed  such  a  predilection 
for  the  '  Mac'  '  O's'  were  plenty  in  Ireland,  whilst  '  il  n'y  a 
pas  d'O  en  Ecosse.' 

" '  Comment,'  exclaimed  the  Marshal,  with  a  sparkle  of 
genuine  fun  in  his  eye, — 'comment,  malgr6  ses  lacs?'" 


286  ^^^W  IRELAND. 

There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  Napoleon  the  Third 
halted  at  Villafranca  because  he  found  himself  in  the  toils  of 
a  man  who  was  his  master  in  every  art  of  diplomacy  and 
politics, — Count  Cavour.  The  Emperor  had  dreams  and 
schemes  of  compromise,  and  thought  he  could  assign  limits 
to  the  bold  designs  of  the  Turin  orgartizer,  by  whom  from 
first  to  last  he  was  baffled,  outwitted,  and  beaten.  Even 
while  Napoleon  was  theorizing  over  his  project  of  an  Italian 
Confederation  with  the  Pope  at  its  head,  Cavour,  determined 
to  defeat  it,  was  secretly  spreading  his  agencies  and  opera- 
tions throughout  the  entire  peninsula.  On  the  20th  of  Octo- 
ber Victor  Emmanuel  openly  rejected  the  Villafranca  plan, 
declaring  he  was  engaged  to  the  Italian  people.  In  the  same 
month  wjs  announced  the  division  of  the  territory  so  far 
secured.  Savoy  and  Nice  were  to  fall  to  the  French  Emperor, 
as  compensation  for  Lombardy ;  the  Romagna,  Parma,  and 
Modena  being  appropriated  by  the  Sardinian  king.  But  was 
annexation  to  stop  even  at  this  point?  A  feeling  of  uneasi- 
ness and  appreliension  spread  through  Ireland.  The  new 
year,  1860,  found  the  island  heaving  Avith  excitement.  That 
on  one  ground  or  another  the  Pope  would  be  openly  attacked 
and  further  despoiled  was  now  the  universal  conviction,  and 
monster  meetings  to  tender  him  sympathy  and  support  were 
held  in  every  province  and  county.  Subscriptions  in  his  aid 
poured  in  from  every  parish  and  diocese  in  the  kingdom. 
They  amounted  in  the  aggregate  to  a  vast  sum  ;  but  the  depth 
and  force  of  popular  feeling  which  these  sixpences  and  shil- 
ling&of  the  poor  represented,  even  more  than  did  the  splendid 
contributions  of  the  rich  and  aristocratic  classes,  gave  a  grave 
importance  to  this  extraordinary  upheaval  of  religious  emotion. 

On  this  subject  there  was  displayed  one  of  the  most  violent 
conflicts  of  English  and  Irish  popular  opinion  which  I  have 
ever  noted.  In  England  the  Italian  movement  evoked  the 
warmest  admiration.     It  was  hailed  as  the  onward  march  of 


PAPAL   IRF.LAND.  287 

liberty,  the  overthrow  of  oppression.  In  Ireland  it  was  de- 
nounced as  the  rapacity  of  a  dishonest  neighboring  state, 
sapping  and  undermining  the  Pontifical  power,  and  now 
planning  an  open  seizure  of  the  prey.  Englishmen  were 
disgusted  that  the  Irish  should,  out  of  fanatical  worship  of 
the  Pope,  desire  to  prevent  the  Romans  from  being  free. 
Irishmen  were  angered  to  see  how  filibustering  raids  were 
subsidized  in  England  against  an  aged  and  peaceful  Pontiff, 
the  head  of  Christendom,  while  a  few  years  previously  Great 
Britain  had  spent  millions  of  money  and  shed  rivers  of  blood 
to  uphold  the  head  of  Mohammedanism.  The  artillery  of 
journalism  waged  a  furious  duel  across  the  Channel.  "Every 
people  has  a  right  to  choose  its  own  form  of  government," 
said  the  English  press.  "  Then  let  us  choose  ours,"  answered 
the  Irish.  "  The  Romans  have  a  right  to  rebel,"  said  the 
one.  "  But  there  is  no  question  of  the  Romans  rebelling," 
responded  the  other :  "  it  is  a  question  of  the  Piedmontese  in- 
vading the  Pope's  dominions."  In  short,  the  dispute  resolved 
itself  briefly  into  this,  that  in  England  the  reality  of  oppres- 
sion and  disaffection  in  the  Pope's  dominions  was  fully  be- 
lieved in,  while  in  Ireland  the  discontent  was  declared  to  be 
mainly  a  commodity  produced  by  Sardinian  agencies  for  Sar- 
dinian ends, — that  is  to  say,  for  annexation  purposes. 

Each  party  acted  accordingly.  From  England  went  pub- 
lic addresses,  money,  and  men  to  help  Victor  Emmanuel  and 
Garibaldi.  From  Ireland  went  addresses  and  money,  but 
not  yet  men,  to  defend  the  Roman  Pontiff  against  the  threat- 
ened attack.  Not  yet  men ;  but  soon  the  cry  was  raised. 
Why  not  men  also  ?  One  of  the  popular  journals,  the  Dwn- 
dalk  Democrat,  declared  that  Ireland's  best  offering  to  the 
Supreme  Pontiff  at  this  crisis  would  be  an  Irish  brigade.  I 
had  myself  for  some  time  previou^^ly  been  vainly  urging  the 
same  view  on  Irish  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  whom  I  knew  to 
be  in  intimate  correspondence  with  Rome.     I  found  I  was 


288  iV^ir  IRELAND. 

dealing  with  a  wofully  conservative  body  of  men.  They 
quite  started,  affrighted,  from  the  use  of  anything  like  force 
or  violence  even  in  self-defence.  I  believe  my  views  and 
propositions  were  forwarded  to  or  mentioned  at  Rome,  but 
they  were  rather  discouragingly  received.  Monsignor  de 
Merode  was  then  the  pontifical  minister  of  military  affairs. 
He  early  foresaw  that  to  the  arbitrament  of  the  battle-field 
this  whole  business  must  some  day  come;  and  he  strained 
every  nerve  to  prepare  for  such  a  contingency.  Only  in  a 
slow  and  halting  and  reluctant  way  could  he  obtain  assent 
to  his  views  at  the  Vatican,  where  Cardinal  Antonelli,  per- 
suaded that  resistance  single-handed  would  be  hopeless,  was 
altogether  for  relying  on  "  the  Christian  Powers."  Pio  None 
himself  was,  moreover,  to  the  last  more  or  less  averse  to 
military  preparation  or  demonstration.  He  was  a  man  of 
prayer;  Cardinal  Antonelli  was  a  man  of  diplomacy;  Mon- 
signor de  Merode  believed  that  Count  Cavour  cared  little  for 
either,  and  that,  taking  to  the  sword,  he  could  be  stopped 
only  by  the  sword,  if  at  all. 

At  last  we  heard  that  General  Lamoriciere  had  been  offered 
land  had  accepted  the  chief  command  of  the  Pontifical  army, 
■ — nominally  twenty  thousand,  in  reality  about  ten  thousand, 
men.  To  those  in  any  degree  behind  the  scenes  this  meant 
that  !^^onsignor  de  Merode  had  at  length  carried  the  day, 
and  that  an  effort  would  be  made  to  organize  a  force  for  the 
defence  of  the  Roman  territory. 

One  day  early  in  March,  1860,  two  gentlemen  entered  my 
office  in  Lower  Abbey  Street,  Dublin.  One  was  a  friend 
whom  I  knew  to  be  deeply  interested  in  the  now  critical 
affairs  of  the  Pontifical  Government;  the  other  was  a 
stranger,  apparently  a  foreigner.  "Here,"  said  my  friend, 
"  is  a  gentleman  who  shares  some  of  those  views  you  have 
been  so  hotly  urging  about  defending  Rome."  I  found  in 
my  unknown  visitor  Count  Charles  MacDonnell,  of  Vienna, 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  289 

trusted  attachi  of  Field-Marshal  Count  Nugent,  and  a  Cham-' 
berlain  of  the  Holy  Father.  If  ever  a  chivalrous  devotion 
to  a  fallen  cause  was  personified,  it  was  in  this  loyal  and 
brave-hearted  gentleman.  He  reminded  me  of  those  High- 
land chieftains  whose  attachment  to  the  Stuarts,  romantic  and 
tragical,  evokes  sympathy  and  admiration  in  every  generous 
breast.  Had  he  lived  in  the  thirteenth  century,  he  would 
have  been  a  crusader  knight;  in  1641  he  would  have  been  a 
Cavalier;  in  1745  he  would  have  been  at  the  side  of  Prince 
Charles  Edward  on  the  fatal  field  of  Culloden.  He  came  to 
see  what  Ireland  would  do, — what  aid  she  would  contribute 
in  the  military  defence  of  the  Roman  patrimony.  "  We 
know  in  Rome,"  said  he,  "  that  Garibaldi,  with  the  con- 
nivance and  secret  assistance  of  the  Turin  Government,  is 
organizing  an  aggressive  expedition,  but  whether  to  strike  at 
Naples  or  at  us  in  the  first  instance  we  cannot  tell.  In  any 
case  we  shall  be  attacked  this  summer.  What  will  Ireland 
do  for  us?" 

"  In  the  improbable  event  of  the  Government  allowing  vol- 
unteering, as  in  the  case  of  Donna  Maria,"  I  answered,  "  you 
can  have  thirty  thousand  men  ;  if,  as  is  most  likely,  they  give 
no  permission  but  no  active  opposition,  you  will  probably  get 
ten  thousand :  if  they  actively  prevent,  nothing  can  be  done. 
In  my  opinion,  unless  the  proceeding  is  too  glaring  and  open. 
Lord  Palraerston  will  not  raise  a  conflict,  in  view  of  Lord 
EUenborough's  letter  and  the  'million  of  muskets'  movement 
on  the  other  side  in  England.  But  the  chief  difficulty  will 
be  our  own  bishops.  They  will  be  adverse  or  neutral.  Not 
one  of  them  believes  the  little  army  of  Lamoriciere  can  cope 
with  the  overpowering  odds  of  Sardinia." 

The  Count  pulled  from  liis  breast  a  scarlet  morocco  letter- 
case,  and  in  five  minutes  satisfied  me  that  abundant  assurance 
had  been  secretly  given  at  Rome  by  some  of  the  crowned  heads 
of  Europe  that  if  the  Monsignor  de  Merode  could,  without 
T  25 


290  ^^^  IRELAND. 

French  or  Austrian  intervention,  defeat  invasion  by  Garibal- 
dian  irregulars,  Sardinia  would  be  prevented  from  attacking. 

This  threw  a  new  light  on  the  situation.  I  think  I  can 
assert  that  it  was  upon  the  faith  of  those  private  assurances 
the  whole  of  General  Lamorici^re's  movements  were  planned 
in  1860. 

My  friend  the  Count  was  intensely  Austrian,  and  hated 
Napoleon  with  a  deadly  hatred.  "  He  is  a  liar,"  he  said, 
"  and  the  truth  is  not  in  him.  He  will  not  keep  his  word  ; 
but  others  will."  I  could  see  very  early  that  the  mortal  jeal- 
ousy between  France  and  Austria  would  prove  the  real  peril 
of  Pio  Nono. 

We  set  off  on  a  tour  through  the  provinces,  to  sound  our 
way  as  to  what  might  be  done,  and  how  best  to  do  it.  I  was 
painfully  anxious  that  the  Count  should  be  out  of  the  country 
as  soon  as  possible,  or,  at  all  events,  that  he  should  send  his 
red  despatch-case  away,  for  it  contained  one  or  two  autograph 
letters  wliich,  if  lost,  or  on  any  pretext  seized,  would  have 
raised  an  awkward  diplomatic  storm  on  the  Continent.  But 
he  would  "■  complete  his  mission"  at  all  hazards  ;  and  he  did. 
Within  less  than  a  month  from  his  departure  the  first  band 
of  Pontifical  volunteers  left  Ireland.  Before  the  end  of  July 
nearly  two  thousand  men  had  proceeded  in  small  parties 
across  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  reached  the  Roman 
States.  Deep  mistrust  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  at  first  for- 
bade the  hazard  of  sending  men  througli  France,  and  accord- 
ingly the  route  selected  was  by  way  of  Belgium  and  Austria. 
The  line  from  Bodenbach  to  Trieste  and  Ancona  was  under 
the  charge  of  Count  ISIacDonnell ;  the  portion  reaching  from 
Ireland  to  Bodenbach  was  under  the  authority  of  a  committee 
or  directorate  in  Dublin,  consisting  of  three  or  four  gentle- 
men, in  whose  labors  I  bore  some  part.  Only  one  of  them 
may  I  name, — he  is  now  no  more, — and  of  him  I  can  sincerely 
affirm  that  the  Pontifical  power  had  never  fallen  if  all  who 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  291 

owed  it  allegiance  had  served  it  with  the  deep-hearted  love 
and  devotion  of  Laurence  Canon  Forde. 

The  expedition  which  Count  MacDonnell  had  predicted  or 
mentioned  in  March  proved  a  reality.  On  the  4th  of  April 
an  outbreak  took  place  at  Palermo,  and  on  the  5th  of  May 
the  famous  "  Thousand"  of  Garibaldi  sailed  from  Genoa. 
From  that  date  to  the  beginning  of  Sejitember  Europe  wit- 
nessed the  unchecked  victorious  progress  of  that  force.  By 
the  28th  of  July  they  had  conquered  Sicily.  On  the  8th  of 
September  General  Garibaldi,  M.  Dumas,  p^re,  and  Mr.  Ed- 
win James,  his  chief  non-military  colleagues  in  the  campaign, 
entered  Naples  without  opposition,  Francis  II.  having  retired 
to  Gaeta.  Next  day  Victor  Emmanuel  was  proclaimed  king 
in  the  Neapolitan  capital. 

The  endeavor  of  Generals  Lamoriciere  and  Kanzler  to 
hurriedly  organize  a  really  efficient  military  system  was  a 
work  of  almost  hopeless  difficulty.  Papal  Rome  was  not 
a  belligerent  power.  Its  so-called  army,  or  Swiss  guard,  was 
little  more  than  a  police  force.  Nevertheless,  by  the  month 
of  August  Lamoriciere  declared  himself  confident  of  en- 
countering and  defeating  the  now  imminent  attack  of  the 
victorious  Garibaldians  penetrating  from  the  Neapolitan  side. 
Meanwhile  a  formidable  Sardinian  force  was  being  assembled 
on  the  northern  frontier,  under  Generals  Cialdini  and  Fanti. 
To  the  very  last  the  French  Emperor  sent  tranquillizing 
assurances,  on  the  faith  of  Turin  declarations,  that  no  hostile 
movement   against  the   Pontifical    territory  was  intended;* 


*  "At  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  September  your  excellency 
communicated  to  me  the  assurances  given  by  the  French  ambassador 
on  behalf  of  Piedmont,  that  not  only  that  power  would  not  invade  our 
territory,  but  that  it  would  even  oppose  the  invasion  by  any  bands  of 
volunteers  which  were  forming  over  our  frontiers.  The  measures 
adopted  against  Colonel  Nicotera,  who  had  assembled  two  thousand 
men  in  the  neighborhood  of  Leghorn,  and  who  wished  to  throw  them 


292  ^^^W  IRELAND. 

that  this  army  was  assembled  to  "  repress  disorder"  should 
the  Garibaldian  movement  in  the  South  extend.  Suddenly, 
on  the  9th  of  September,  1860,  Cardinal  Antonelli  received 
from  Count  Cavour  a  demand  for  the  disbandment  of  La- 
moriciere's  force.  Without  awaiting  reply,  the  corps  of 
Generals  Fauti  and  Cialdini  burst  across  the  frontier,  took 
Lamoriciere  in  flank  and  rear,  and  cut  in  pieces  the  forma- 
tion he  had  effected  for  attack  from  a  different  quarter.  In 
a  brief  and  disastrous  campaign,  in  which,  hopelessly  out- 
numbered and  taken  by  surprise,  it  never  had  a  chance,  the 
Pontifical  army  was  defeated  at  every  point.  This  crash 
found  the  Irish,  mostly  unarmed,  in  process  of  drill  at  An- 
cona,  Spoleto,  Perugia,  and  Foligno.  Their  organization 
into  a  battalion,  called  the  "  Battalion  of  St.  Patrick,"  under 
the  command  of  Major  Myles  W.  O'Reilly  (the  present 
member  of  Parliament  for  Longford  County),  had  barely 
been  effected ;  but  their  equipment  was  not  yet  accomplished. 
Lamoriciere  seemed  stunned  by  the  news  of  the  Piedmontese 
invasion.  Marching  out  of  Spoleto  at  midnight  of  the  14th, 
he  made  a  desperate  effort  to  gather  his  forces  for  a  dash  to 
Ancona,  the  Piedmontese  commander  being  evidently  deter- 
mined to  cut  him  off.  Strange  as  it  may  sound  at  this  day, 
even  at  that  moment  the  Pa})al  general  believed,  and  had  re- 
ceived reason  to  believe,  that  if  he  could  hold  the  enemy  at 
bay  for  a  week  or  two  the  French  Emperor  would  come  to 
his  aid.     At  Macerata,  on   the  17th,  he  effected  a  junction 


on  our  coasts,  were  additionally  promised  to  us  ;  and  it  appeared  that  it 
■was  in  the  direction  of  Naples  that  we  had  to  fear  an  invasion.  Al- 
ready at  several  intervals  the  embarkation  of  troops  in  Sicily  and  in 
the  Calabria  was  announced  as  intending  to  attack  us  in  the  direction 
of  the  Marches ;  and  after  the  occupation  of  Naples  by  General  Gari- 
baldi everything  led  us  to  believe  that  our  southern  provinces  would  be 
shortly  invaded." — Official  Report  by  General  Lamoriciere  to  the  Pon- 
tifical Ministry  of   War. 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  293 

with  General  Pimodan.  Pushing  on  next  day,  he  found 
General  Cialdini  lying  across  his  course  in  strong  position  at 
Castelfidardo.  Here  was  fought  the  really  decisive  battle  of 
the  campaign.  Lamoriciere  succeeded  in  cutting  his  way 
through  to  Ancona,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  chasseurs ;  but 
his  army  was  annihilated. 

Meanwhile  General  Fanti's  corps  had  attacked  and  taken 
Perugia  on  the  15th,  and  summoned  Spoleto  to  surrender  on 
the  17th.  The  town,  or  rather  the  "Rocca,"  was  held  by 
Major  O'Reilly  and  three  hundred  Irishmen,  besides  some 
few  Franco-Belgians,  Austrians,  Swiss,  and  native  Italians. 
Quite  a  formidable  controversy  was  raised  by  some  of  the 
English  newspapers  over  this  caj^ture  of  Spoleto  from  the 
Irish;  but  the  signal  gallantry  of  the  defence  has  been  at- 
tested by  authorities  on  whose  testimony  Major  O'Reilly  and 
his  three  hundred  Irishmen  may  proudly  rest  their  reputa- 
tion,— namely.  General  Brignone,  the  commander  of  the 
attacking  force,  and  General  Lamoriciere,  one  of  the  first 
soldiers  in  Europe.  The  former  in  the  articles  of  capitula- 
tion says, — 

"  The  officers  and  soldiers  shall  be  treated  in  all  respects  with  that 
urbanity  and  that  respect  which  befit  honorable  and  brave  troops,  as 
they  have  proved  themselves  to  be  in  to-day's  fight." 

On  the  28tli  of  September  Ancona,  besieged  by  land  and 
sea,  its  defences  laid  in  ruins  by  a  continuous  bombardment, 
surrendered  to  Admiral  Persano,  whose  recently-published 
correspondence  throws  a  startling  light  on  the  secret  history 
of  this  campaign. 

Whether  the  Irish  companies  in  this  ill-fated  struggle  dis- 
played at  all  events  "  the  ancient  courage  of  their  race"  is  a 
question  that  keenly  touches  the  national  honor.  Happily  its 
decision  does  not  rest  merely  on  the  frank  and  modest  report 
of  their  commander,  nor  yet  on  the  eulogies  of  the  Pajjal  min- 

25* 


294  ^EW  IRELAND. 

ister  of  war.  Xo  one  will  deny  that  General  Lamoriciere  w^as 
a  competent  military  authority  as  to  the  bearing  and  conduct 
of  soldiers.  In  his  official  report  he  makes  severe  reflections 
on  some  small  portion  of  the  troops  who  served  under  his  cora- 
luand ;  but  of  the  Irish  he  never  speaks  save  in  praise.  He 
bears  special  testimony  to  their  bravery  at  Perugia,  at  Spo- 
leto,  at  Castelfidardo,  and  at  Ancona.  "At  Perugia,"  he 
says,  '"  one  Irish  company"  (the  total  Irish  force  present) 
"and  the  greater  part  of  the  battalion  of  the  2d  Regiment 
of  the  Line  alone  showed  themselves  determined  to  do  their 
duty."  At  Spoleto,  he  says,  the  Irish  "defended  themselves 
with  great  gallantry."  At  Castelfidardo,  he  says,  "two  how- 
itzers were  moved  forward,  under  a  very  sharp  fire,  with  the 
aid  of  the  Irish.  These  brave  soldiei-s,  after  having  accom- 
plished the  mission  with  which  they  were  charged,  reunited 
themselves  with  the  tirailleurs,  and  during  the  rest  of  the 
battle  distinguished  themselves  in  tlieir  ranks." 

Often  have  bitter  and  passionate  words  passed  between  the 
English  and  Irish  press;  but  I  doubt  if  ever  the  language  of 
taunt  and  contumely  on  the  one  hand,  of  hatred  and  defiance 
on  the  other,  proceeded  to  greater  lengths  than  on  this  occa- 
sion. The  presence  of  an  Irish  force  on  the  Papal  side 
utterly  outraged  English  opinion  ;  and  the  way  in  which 
English  anger  found  expression  in  the  public  journals  was 
in  calling  the  Irish  "cowards"  and  "mercenaries."  What- 
ever else  may  be  said  of  Irishmen,  as  England  well  knows, 
they  make  good  soldiers.  They  are  not  "cowards;"  and 
whatever  else  might  have  been  charged  upon  those  men, 
they  were  not  "  mercenaries."  From  the  English  point  of 
view  they  were  fanatics,  but  certainly  not  mercenaries.  They 
left  country,  home,  and  friends  to  fight  for  a  cause  in  which, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  as  Englishmen  might  judge,  they  deemed 
it  honorable  and  holy  to  die.  Pay — mercenary  considerations 
— could  have  had  no  place  in  their  motives ;  for  the  pay  of  a 


PAPAL   IRELAND.  295 

Papal  soldier  was  merely  nominal,  and  his  rations  were  poor 
indeed.  The  taunts  and  invectives  of  the  English  press 
evoked  fierce  rejoinder  in  Ireland.  By  way  of  answer  to  the 
aspersions  on  the  battalion  lying  prisoners  at  Leghorn  and 
Genoa,  it  was  decided  that  they  should  be  brought  home  "  in 
triumph"  at  the  national  expense.  After  a  troubled  and 
protracted  negotiation  with  the  Piedmontese  authorities,  the 
prisoners  were  turned  over  to  a  duly-commissioned  represen- 
tative of  the  Irish  Brigade  committee.  He  chartered  a 
steamer  and  embarked  the  men  for  Cork,  where  they  safely 
arrived  on  the  3d  of  November,  1860.  In  anticipation  of 
this  event  I  was  requested  to  proceed  to  the  southern  port  to 
arrange  for  their  reception  and  the  forwarding  of  them  to 
their  homes.  But  the  citizens  of  Cork  took  the  work  very 
heartily  into  their  own  hands  in  great  part.  A  local  "  re- 
ception committee"  was  instantly  formed,  under  the  active 
presidency  of  Mr.  J.  F.  Maguire,  M.P.,  and  preparations  set 
on  foot  for  a  general  festive  display.  Had  those  men  been 
victors  on  a  hundred  fields  they  could  not  have  been  wel- 
comed with  more  flattering  demonstrations.  Bands  played 
and  banners  waved ;  the  population  turned  out  en  masse ; 
addresses  were  presented  and  speeches  delivered.  In  public 
procession,  escorted  by  the  local  committee,  comprising  some 
of  the  principal  citizens  of  Cork,  the  battalion  marched  to  the 
several  railway-stations,  where,  breaking  up  into  parties  des- 
tined for  diiferent  localities,  they  separated,  embracing  and 
kissing  one  another  in  Continental  style,  quite  affectionately. 
Nor  did  the  demonstrations  end  here.  At  every  town  where 
a  detachment  alighted,  crowds  assembled,  waving  green 
boughs  if  flags  could  not  be  obtained,  and  escorted  them 
on  their  homeward  road. 

In  this  chapter  of  her  history  Ireland  is  to  be  seen  and 
studied  under  the  influences  of  overpowering  religious  emo- 
tion, or,  as  it  might  be  less  sympathetically  said,  "carried 


296  ^EW  IRELAND. 

away  by  such  blind  and  fanatical  zeal  for  a  religious  chief  as 
must  mark  a  nation  embued  with  bigotry  and  intolerance." 
It  is,  however,  a  fact  which  ought  to  be  intelligently  contem- 
plated, that  this  people,  so  strongly  Papal,  so  intensely  Catho- 
lic, so  violently  opposed  to  "  liberalism"  or  religious  indif- 
ference, is,  in  civil  affairs,  perhaps  the  most  liberal  and  tol- 
erant in  the  world.  When,  in  the  early  part  of  the  present 
century,  it  was  proposed  to  "  emancipate"  Irish  Catholics, 
that  is,  to  admit  them  to  seats  in  Parliament  and  to  certain 
municipal  and  other  official  positions,  the  project  was  long 
resisted  on  the  ground  that  a  people  so  dogmatic  or  "  bigoted" 
in  their  religion  would  instantly  ostracize  non-Catholics; 
that,  being  in  a  vast  majority  all  pver  Ireland,  they  would 
drive  from  public  life  all  Protestant  representatives  of  popu- 
lar constituencies,  making  religion,  not  politics,  a  test  in  civil 
affairs.  Not  a  far-fetched  apprehension,  assuredly.  Long 
excluded  from  such  civil  rights  and  privileges,  it  would  not 
have  been  very  astonishing  if  the  Irish  Catholics,  wherever 
they  could  command  a  parliamentary  seat  or  a  municipal 
honor,  kept  it  for,  or  conferred  it  on,  a  man  of  their  own 
faith,  leaving  non-Catholics,  for  whom  the  field  had  always 
been  free,  to  the  care  of  still  powerful  co-religionists.  This 
was  not  the  course  which  they  adopted.  They  no  sooner 
grasped  these  coveted  honors  and  privileges  than  they  hastened 
to  share  them  with  their  Protestant  friends.  From  the  day 
the  Catholic  Emancipation  Act  received  the  royal  assent,  in 
1829,  to  this  hour,  the  most  Catholic  constituencies  in  Ire- 
land have  again  and  again  returned  Protestants  to  Parlia- 
ment, and  have  often  so  returned  them  in  opposition  to 
Catholics  of  less  acceptable  political  views.  ]\Ir.  Butt,  Mr. 
Mitchell  Henry,  ISIr.  Bleunerhassett,  Mr.  Whitworth,  Mr. 
Gray,  Lord  Francis  Conyngham,  Mr.  Parnell,  Captain  King 
Harman,  and  other  Protestant  gentlemen  now  sitting  for 
Irish  seats,  are  elected,  as  were  their  equally  Protestant  pre- 


PAPAL  IRELAND.  297 

decessors,  by  some  of  the  most  Ultramontane  and  Papal 
communities  in  Christendom  ! 

This  praiseworthy  conduct,  unfortunately,  has  as  yet 
elicited  no  reciprocal  action  on  the  other  side ;  and  the  foes 
of  bigotry  and  intolerance  at  one  time  trembled  lest  a  fact 
so  discouraging  might  ruin  the  generous  experiment.  In  no 
single  instance  has  an  Irish  Protestant  constituency  elected  a 
Catholic  to  Parliament.  Happily,  the  Catholic  majority, 
refusing  retaliation,  hold  on  to  the  principle  of  doing  what  is 
right  and  wise  and  kindly.  It  will  be  a  day  of  calamity  for 
Ireland  if  ever  the  evil  spirit  of  fanaticism  shake  them  from 
that  noble  policy. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


THE   FATE  OF  GLENVEIH. 


In  the  remote  and  wild  northwest  of  Ireland,  lashed  by 
billows  that  roll  from  the  frozen  ocean,  stands  ancient  Tyr- 
connell,  better  known  to  modern  ears  as  the  Donegal  High- 
lands. There  is  probably  no  part  of  the  island  of  equal  ex- 
panse more  self-contained,  or  separate,  as  it  were,  from  the 
outer  world.  Nowhere  else  have  the  native  population  more 
largely  preserved  their  peculiar  features  of  life  and  character, 
custom  and  tradition,  amidst  the  changes  of  the  last  two  hun- 
dred years. 

The  eastern  portion  of  Donegal  abounds  in  rich  and  fertile 
valleys,  and  is  peojjled  by  a  different  race.  Two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ago  all  of  the  soil  that  was  fair  to  see,  that 
seemed  worth  possessing,  was  handed  over  to  "  planters," 
or  "  undertakers.''  The  native  Celts  were  driven  to  the 
boggy  wastes  and  trackless  hills  that  were  too  poor  or  too 
remote  for  settlers  to  accept.  Here,  shut  out  from  the  busy 
world,  their  lowly  lot  shielding  them  from  many  a  danger, 
the  descendants  of  the  faithful  clansmen  of  "Dauntless  Red 
Hugh"  lived  on.  Their  life  was  toilsome,  but  they  mur- 
mured not.  Along  the  western  shore,  pierced  by  many  a 
deep  bay,  or  belted  by  wastes  of  sand,  their  little  sheelings 
nestled  alongside  some  friendly  crag,  while  close  at  hand 
"the  deep-voiced  neighboring  ocean"  boomed  eternally  in 
sullen  roar. 

The  scenery,  from  Slieveleague  to  Malin  Head,  is  wildly 
romantic,  and  in  some  places  surpassingly  beautiful.  There 
are  wide  stretches  of  bleak  and  utter  desolation,  but  ever  and 
298 


THE  FATE   OF  GLENVEIH.  299 

anon  the  eye  is  arrested  and  the  fancy  charmed  by  views 
which  Alpine  regions  rarely  excel.  Lough  Svvilly — "  the 
Lake  of  Shadows" — is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  ocean 
inlets  on  our  coasts.  It  steals  southward  past  Buncrana  and 
historic  Rathmullen,  till  it  reaches  Letterkenny  on  the  one 
side,  and  lovely  Fauhn  on  the  other ;  as  if  the  sea  had  hurst 
into  a  series  of  Tyrolean  valleys.  But  there  is  not  a  scene 
among  them  all  to  match  the  weird  beauty  and  savage  gran- 
deur of  lone  Glenveih ! 

The  western,  or  Atlantic,  shore  of  Donegal  is  indented  by 
a  narrow  estuary,  which  penetrates  some  five  or  six  miles  in 
a  northeasterly  direction,  until,  at  a  place  called  Doochery,  it 
meets  the  Gweebarra  River.  The  gorge  through  which  estu- 
ary and  river  flow  is  but  the  southwestern  section  of  a  singu- 
lar chain  of  valleys,  which  reach  in  a  direct  line  from  Gwee- 
bara  Bay  to  Glen  Lough,  a  distance  of  more  than  twenty 
miles.  The  middle  section  is  Glenveih,  so  called;  or,  as  it 
ought  to  be,  Glenbah, — the  Glen  of  Silver  Birches.  It  is 
truly  a  most  romantic  spot.  The  mountains  rise  boldly  to  a 
height  of  over  a  thousand  feet  on  either  side,  and  are  clothed 
in  great  part  with  indigenous  forest;  while  sleeping  calmly 
in  the  vale  below,  following  its  gentle  windings,  broadening 
and  narrowing  as  the  hills  give  room,  is  the  lake, — Lough 
Veih. 

The  mountain-district  around  is  of  the  wildest  character. 
Thirty  years  ago  it  was  inhabited  by  a  people  such  as  one 
might  meet  amidst  the  crags  of  the  Interthal  or  Passeyr, — 
sometimes  passionate,  always  hospitable ;  frugal,  hardy,  in- 
ured to  toil.  They  eked  out  a  poor  existence  less  by  their 
little  farm-plots  than  by  rearing  on  the  mountains  young 
stock,  which  at  the  suitable  seasons  they  sold  to  the  comfort- 
able and  prosperous  Presbyterian  plantation-men  of  Haphoe 
and  Lifford  districts. 

Little  more  than  twenty  years  ago  there  chanced  to  pass 


300  iV^£Pr  IRELAND. 

through  Derryveih,*  as  the  immediate  district  is  called,  on 
sporting  purposes  bent,  Mr.  John  George  Adair,  of  Bellgrove, 
iu  Queen's  County.  He  was  so  struck,  he  says,  Avith  the  charms 
of  the  scenery,  that  he  determined  to  become  proprietor  of 
the  place.  Between  xVugust,  1857,  and  May,  1858,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  purchasing  a  great  part  in  fee-simple,  and  a  fee- 
farm  interest  in  a  further  portion.  It  was  an  evil  day  for 
the  mountaineers  Avhen  Mr.  Adair  first  set  eye  on  their  home. 
Notwithstanding:  the  storm  of  terrible  accusations  which  that 
gentleman  soon  after  poured  upon  them,  and  the  disturbance, 
conflict,  and  crime  which  attended  upon  or  arose  out  of  his 
proprietorial  proceedings,  the  fact  is  significant  that  at  the 
period  of  his  purchase,  and  ever  subsequently,  the  Glenveih 
peasantry  were  on  the  best  and  kindliest  relations  with  their 
landlords,  and  that  the  surrounding  gentry,  and  the  clergy  of 
all  religious  denominations,  to  the  very  last  spoke  and  speak  of 
them  in  terms  of  warmest  sympathy  and  compassion.  No 
sooner,  however,  does  Mr,  Adair  enter  on  the  scene  than  a  sad 
and  startling  change  appears.  The  picture  drawn  by  the  pre- 
vious and  surrounding  landlords,  of  a  simple,  kindly,  and 
peaceable  peasantry,  gives  way  to  one  sketched  by  ]\Ir.  Adair 
of  a  lawless,  violent,  thieving,  murderous  gang,  whose  extirpa- 
tion is  a  mission  which  has  devolved  on  him  in  the  interests  of 
"  society."  The  first  act  of  the  new  landlord  was  ominous  of 
what  was  to  follow.  The  purchases  were  completed  by  the 
30th  of  April,  when  what  was  called  the  Gartan  estates 
passed  to  him  from  Mr.  Cornwall.  In  May  he  began  opera- 
tions by  the  erection  of  a  police-barrack,  and  close  to  it,  under 
the  cover  of  its  guns,  a  "  pound," — or  prison  for  seized  cattle. 
I  knew  a  little  of  Mr.  Adair.  He  had  been,  if  not  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Tenant  League,   a  Tenant-Hight  cjuididate  for 


*"  Derryveih,"  "  Loughveib,"  and  "Glenveih"  mean  respectively 
the  wood  or  forest,  the  lake,  and  the  glen  of  silver  birches. 


THE  FATE   OF  GLENVEIH.  301 

Parliament  in  1852.  In  these  proceedings  of  his  I  have 
never  regarded  him  as  a  man  who  coldly  planned  barbarity, 
or  designed  injustice,  when  he  entered  upon  the  career  of 
landlord  in  Donegal.  Nay,  I  incline  to  believe  he  meant 
to  use  kindly,  according  to  his  own  ideas,  the  despotic  power 
which  he  claimed.  But  a  thwarted  despot  soon  forgets  be- 
nevolent intentions,  and  thinks  only  of  asserting  his  power 
and  of  crushing  without  mercy  those  who  war  against  it. 
The  police-barrack  and  the  pound  were  the  first  indications 
of  the  spirit  of  Mr.  Adair's  rule.  I  am  not  aware  that  the 
old  landlord  had  need  of  tiiese  institutions.  The  jjeople  at 
all  events  looked  askance  at  them ;  and  on  the  threshold 
of  his  proceedings  Mr.  Adair  was  prejudiced  in  tlieir  eyes. 
The  21st  of  August  found  that  gentleman  on  the  hills,  gun 
in  hand,  shooting  over  the  lands  upon  which  Mr.  Jolinson, 
the  late  landlord,  was  alone  understood  to  possess  the  right 
of  sporting.  The  tenants,  headed  by  one  James  Corrin, 
either  by  express  order  from  Mr.  Johnson  or  under  some 
idea  of  duty  towards  him,  resisted  Mr.  Adair's  attempt  to 
shoot  over  the  lands,  and  a  rather  angry  conflict  or  scuffle 
ensued.  Mr.  Adair  indicted  Corrin  and  the  other  tenants, 
for  this  "  assault ;"  but  the  real  nature  of  the  affray  is  suffi- 
ciently attested  by  the  fact  that  on  the  23d  of  October  the 
grand  jury  threw  out  the  bills,  and  next  Michaelmas  terra 
Corrin — significantly  enough,  through  the  attorney  of  his 
landlord,  Mr.  Johnson — filed  an  action  for  assault  and  bat- 
tery and  malicious  prosecution  against  Mr.  Adair.  On  the 
16th  and  17th  of  February  next  year,  1859,  the  action  came 
to  trial  before  the  Lord  Chief  Baron  in  Dublin.  It  resulted 
in  a  verdict  that  Mr.  Adair  had  conimitted  an  assault,  but 
that  it  had  been  in  exercise  of  a  lawful  right  of  sporting. 
Next  ensuing  term  Corrin  served  notice  for  a  new  trial  in 
the  superior  courts,  and  so  the  litigation  went  on. 

Out  of  this  dispute,  this  paltry  quarrel  of  Mr.  Adair  with 

26 


302  iV'^TT  IRELAND. 

poor  mountaineers  defending,  as  they  believed,  the  rights  of 
an  old  landlord — sprang  events  that  will  never  be  forgotten 
in  Donegal. 

From  Easter  to  midsummer  it  was  open  war  between  the 
great  man  and  the  poor  peasants, — the  latter,  however,  being 
warmly  befriended  by  the  neighboring  magistrates  and  land- 
lords. Colonel  Humfrey  especially.  On  the  2d  of  July  Mr. 
Adair  had  several  of  the  tenants  arrested  and  brought  before 
him  at  Glenveih,  the  ^\Tetched  people  being  marched  sixty 
miles  to  and  from  prisons ;  yet  five  days  afterwards  they  were 
discharged  by  two  resident  and  two  local  magistrates  at  Church 
Hill  petty  sessions.  At  length  he  determined  to  put  himself, 
at  any  cost,  in  a  position  which  would  give  him  absolute  do- 
minion over  these  audacious  peasants.  In  October,  1859,  he 
bought  up  the  fee-farm  interest  of  the  remainder  of  Derryveih, 
eleven  thousand  nine  hundred  and  fifty-six  acres,  through  Mr. 
T.  C.  Trench,  at  a  rent  above  the  total  payable  by  the  tenants. 
By  this  time — between  the  purchase,  on  the  22d  of  August, 
1857,  from  Mr.  Pitt  Skipton,  the  29th  of  April,  1858,  from 
Colonel  Humfrey  and  Mr.  Johnson,  the  30th  of  April,  the 
Gartan  estate  from  Mr.  Cornwell,  and  the  10th  of  October, 
1859,  from  Mr.  Johnson — he  had  become  absolute  monarch 
of  nearly  ninety  square  miles  of  country.  This  eager  anxiety 
to  buy  more  and  more  as  time  went  on  was  assuredly  incon- 
sistent with  the  idea  subsequently  put  forward  by  Mr.  Adair, 
that  it  was  an  affliction  to  him  to  be  the  landlord  of  such  a 
people. 

Just  about  the  time  this  gentleman  appeared  in  those  parts, 
Western  Donegal  was  going  through  hard  times  and  bitter 
conflict  over  "  Scotch  sheep."  Some  two  or  three  of  the  pro- 
prietors had  conceived  the  idea — or,  more  probably,  had  been 
weakly  persuaded  by  Scotch  farm-stewards — that  fortunes 
might  be  made  out  of  those  wild  mountains,  now  used  solely 
by  the  cottiers  for  grazing  a  few  goats,  heifers,  and  sheep.     By 


THE  FATE   OF  OLENVEIH.  303 

taking  up  the  mountains  wholly  or  in  part  from  the  people, 
and  extensively  stocking  them  with  imported  black-faced 
sheep,  these  landlords  were  led  to  believe  that  thousands  a 
year  might  be  cleared  in  profit.  The  attempt  to  deprive  the 
people  of  the  mountains  led  to  deplorable  conflict,  suffering, 
and  loss.  The  benevolent  pretext  of  "squaring  the  farms" 
— sometimes,  no  doubt,  a  genuine  and  well-meant  motive, 
but  occasionally  an  excuse  for  dexterously  cheating  the 
people — did  not  avail.  While  the  cottiers  and  the  landlords 
were  fighting  over  the  question,  lo!  the  Scotch  shepherds 
announced  that  the  black-faced  sheep  were  disappearing  from 
the  hills, — stolen  by  the  hostile  inhabitants,  it  was  of  course 
assumed.  Search  of  the  tenants'  houses  failed  to  verify  this 
conclusion.  Some  few  traces  of  such  thefts  were  found  here 
and  there,  but  not  in  any  extent  to  account  for  the  disappear- 
ance of  so  many  hundred  sheep.  Soon  what  had  happened 
became  more  clear.  The  dead  bodies  of  the  sheep  were  found 
in  scores  all  over  the  hills, — killed  by  the  lawless  natives,  it 
was  now  concluded.  Presentments  for  the  value  of  the 
sheep  thus  assumed  to  have  been  "maliciously  destroyed" 
were  levied  on  the  districts.  Still  the  destruction,  or  rather 
the  mysterious  disappearance,  of  the  sheep  went  on.  The 
more  it  did,  the  more  heavy  the  penalty  was  made ;  and  the 
more  sweeping  the  presentments,  the  more  extensive  grew  the 
destruction  ! 

At  last  it  occurred  to  one  of  the  Crown  officials  that  there 
was  something  suspicious  in  all  this.  He  noted  that  whereas 
the  sheep  imported  from  Scotland  cost  from  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence  to  ten  shillings  a  head,  on  the  mountain  they 
were  presented  for  at  seventeen  and  sixpence  to  twenty-five 
shillings.  It  occurred  to  him  that  while  this  went  on,  sheep- 
losing  would  flourish.  Suspicion  once  aroused,  strange  facts 
came  to  light.  The  houses  of  the  shepherds  themselves  were 
searched,  and  mutton  in  rather  too  generous  abundance  was 


304  ^^^  IRELAND. 

found.  Then  serious  investigation  was  prosecuted,  when  it 
was  incontestably  established  that  the  sheep  had  perished  in 
large  numbers  from  stress  of  weather,  still  more  extensively 
from  falling  over  crags  and  precipices,  and  to  some  compara- 
tively small  extent  by  the  surreptitious  supply  of  the  shep- 
herds' tables.  Shortly  came  the  remarkable  fact  of  the  going 
judges  of  assize  indignantly  refusing  to  fiat  these  monstrous 
claims,  and  denouncing  the  whole  proceeding.*  Mirabile 
dictu,  when  the  presentments  were  stopped,  the  black-faced 
sheep  importation  fell  through  ! 

But  in  the  interval  what  suffering  had  been  visited  on  the 
wretched  people !  The  "  levies"  had  reduced  them,  poor  as 
they  were  at  best,  to  a  plight  which  might  have  excited  the 
compassion  of  a  Kurd  marauder.  I  travelled  all  the  Avay 
from  Dublin  to  investigate  the  facts  for  myself  in  the  spring 
of  1858.  I  was  much  excited  by  all  that  I  saw  and  heard,  and 
I  took  an  active,  perhaps  an  angry,  part  in  the  public  agita- 
tion Avhich  ensued.  No  Bulgarian  hut  after  a  raid  of  Bashi- 
bazouks,  or  Armenian  hovel  after  a  Cossack  foray,  could 
present  a  more  wretched  spectacle  of  desolation  than  did 
those  Donegal  sheelings  after  the  levies  had  swept  the  district. 
Yet  what  the  poor  people  seemed  to  feel  as  acutely  as  the 
seizure  and  carting-  off  of  their  little  stock — their  heifei*s  and 
goats,  and  pigs  and  poultry,  nay,  their  bedsteads  and  pots 
and  pans — was  that  they  were  held  up  to  the  world  as  thieves 
and  sheep-stealers.  I  dare  say  some  sheep  had  been  stolen, 
but  certainly  not  in  any  sense  by  a  general  system  or  with 
popular  sym})athv.  It  seemed  to  me  that  some  one  or  two 
undoubted  instances  of  theft  or  destruction  at  the  first  sug- 


*  August  1,  1860.  After  the  verdict  of  the  jury  at  Lifford  assizes  had 
declared  the  sheep  to  have  perished  as  I  have  described,  fhe  judge,  Chief- 
Justice  Monahan,  said,  "  I  am  as  satisfied  as  I  am  of  my  very  existence 
that  those  sheep  were  not  maliciousl}'  killed." 


THE  FATE   OF  GLENVEIH.  305 

gested  the  evil  system,  which  soon  was  adopted,  of  attributing 
all  the  loss  to  the  criminal  conduct  of  the  population. 

Mr.  Adair,  too,  went  in  for  black-faced  sheep;  and  of  all  the 
landlords  who  entered  upon  that  sort  of  speculation  he  was 
the  angriest  at  the  lawless  savagery  (as  he  conceived)  of  the 
natives  in  this  "  malicious  destruction."  In  January,  1 860,  he 
had  given  "  notice  to  quit"  to  his  tenantry,  but  only,  he  told 
them,  for  the  purpose  of  "squaring  the  farms."  The  loss  of 
the  sheep,  following  so  closely  on  other  causes  of  quarrel, 
brought  things  to  an  unhappy  pass  between  him  and  the 
people.  How  the  truth  lay  in  the  sheep  question  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  following  official  resolution  of  the  assembled 
magistrates  at  Church  Hill  sessions : 

"  The  bench  are  unanimously  of  opinion  that  no  sheep  of  Mr.  Adair's 
were  maliciously  injured  or  made  away  with  ;  and  we  find  that  through 
the  constabulary  sixty-six  sheep  have  been  found  dead  from  the  inclem- 
ency of  the  weather,  as  there  was  no  mark  of  injury  on  them." 

But  soon,  unfortunately,  he  was  to  have  still  weightier 
cause  for  resentment,  a  more  terrible  impulsion  to  anger  and 
passion.  On  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  November,  his 
manager,  James  Murray,  left  Glenveih  Cottage.  He  was 
never  seen  alive  afterwards.  On  the  15th  his  body  was  found 
on  the  mountains,  with  marks  of  violence,  which  the  coroner's 
jury  declared  to  have  been  given  by  a  murderer's  hand.  The 
only  witness  examined  (besides  a  surgeon)  was  a  Scotch  assist- 
ant shepherd,  Dugald  Rankin;  and  his  bias  against  the  Glen- 
veih people  was  supposed  to  be  strong.*  Mr.  Adair,  as  he 
gazed  on  the  corpse  of  his  servant, — murdered,  as  he  verily 
believed,  for  stern  discharge  of  his  duties, — revolved  in  his 
mind  a  terrible  determination.     He  grouped  together  a  cata- 

*  On  the  1st  of  March  Rankin  was  carried  to  jail  at  Strabane,  for 
presenting  a  pistol  at  a  man  named  Gallagher  and  wounding  Constable 
Patrick  Morgan. 

u  26* 


306  ^E^^  IRELAND. 

logue  of,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  persistent  and  wide-spread 
crimes.  Two  of  his  dogs  had  been  poisoned,  though  the  pre- 
sentment sessions  refused  to  admit  the  act  was  malicious.  An 
outhouse  at  Gartan  Glebe  was  found  to  be  on  fire  while  he 
was  a  guest  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Maturin.  Two  hundred  of 
his  sheep  had  been  killed  on  the  mountains,  though  the  magis- 
trates would  insist  it  was  by  accident  or  tempest.  And  now 
his  manager  had  been  foully  slain.  He  would  show  these 
people  that  he  would  conquer.  He  would  make  them  feel 
how  terrible  his  vengeance  could  be. 

The  resolution  formed  by  Mr.  Adair  was  to  sweep  away 
the  whole  population  of  Deriyveih,  chiefly  concentrated,  I 
believe,  in  a  little  hamlet  on  the  Lough  Gartan  side  of  the 
hill.*  He  applied  for  and  received  a  special  force  of  police 
to  protect  his  herd  and  himself,  in  view  of  the  desperate 
undertaking  upon  which  he  was  now  entering.  A  parlia- 
mentiiry  return  i&sued  in  May,  1861,  makes  some  curious 
revelations  as  to  Mr.  Adair's  quarrels  with  the  executive  iu 
Dublin  Castle  over  the  cost  and  efficiency  of  this  protective 
garrison.  In  truth,  despite  the  heavy  case  he  was  able  to 
adduce,  the  Government  autliorities,  the  local  magistrates,  the 
clergy,  Protestant  and  Catholic,  the  police  inspectors,  all  mani- 
fested clearly  their  sorrow,  alarm,  or  resentment  at  the  mon- 
strous proceeding  he  contemplated, — nothing  less  than  the 
expulsion  of  hundreds  of  innocent  people,  men  and  women, 
the  aged  and  the  young,  in  vengeance  for  the  crime  of  some 
undiscovered  individual.  The  neighboring  landlords  seemed 
to  regard  him  as  a  deadly  combustible  planted  in  their  midst, 
a  gentleman  whose  "  sense  of  duty"  had  resulted  in  plunging 
their  county  into  a  condition  which  caused  them  vexation  and 
uneasiness.     The  magistrates  of  the   district,  assembled   at 

*  Dcrryveih  Mountain  divides  the  two  lakes  of  Lough  Glenveih,  or 
Lough veih,  and  Lough  Dern^veih,  or  Lough  Gartan.  At  Gartan,  St. 
Columba,  or  Columbkille,  was  born,  a.d.  521. 


THE  FATE  OF  GLENVEIH.  307 

Church  Hill,  felt  the  situation  so  strongly  that  they  passed 
the  following  resolution : 

"Resolved,  That  the  outrages  complained  of  have,  in  our  opinion, 
arisen  from  causes  unconnected  with  any  matter  having  relation  to  the 
adjoining  estates,  hitherto  and  now  in  a  state  of  perfect  tranquillity." 

Mr.  Dillon,  the  resident  magistrate,  writing  to  the  Under- 
Secretary  for  Ireland,  Sir  Thomas  Larcom,  asks,  "  Is  it  my 
duty  and  that  of  the  police  to  stand  by  and  give  protection 
while  the  houses  are  being  levelled  ?"  The  Protestant  rector, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Maturin,  writing  to  the  Dublin  Daily  Express, 
after  Mr.  Adair's  vengeance  had  been  wreaked,  says, — 

"  The  presumption  is  as  strong  that  the  persons  who  committed  the 
murder  were  not  connected  with  the  district.  ...  I  could  mention 
other  reasons  certainly  suspicious  and  somewhat  mysterious.  .  .  . 
"What  would  be  Mr.  Adair's  feelings  if  it  were  found  out  hereafter  that 
the  murder  was  committed  by  persons  in  no  way  connected  with  the 
Derryveigh  tenantry  now  exterminated  on  account  of  It,  and  whose 
wailings  might  then,  without  avail,  forever  ring  in  his  ears?" 

Indeed,  although  the  hapless  mountaineers  were,  I  believe, 
exclusively  Catholic,  this  kindly-hearted  and  estimable  Prot- 
estant clergyman  flung  himself  into  the  forefront  of  every 
effort  to  save  them.  He  and  the  Catholic  priest  of  the  dis- 
trict, the  Rev.  Mr.  Kair,  drew  up  and  forwarded  to  Mr. 
Adair  a  joint  letter,  in  which  they  felt  confident  they  would 
not  appeal  in  vain  to  his  mercy.  They  bore  the  strongest 
testimony  to  the  virtuous  character  and  the  kindly  and  peace- 
able nature  of  the  threatened  people,  whom  they  had  known 
all  their  lives,  and  emphatically  denied  that  any  suspicion  of 
complicity  in  Murray's  murder  could  justly  be  laid  again.st 
thera.  Mr.  Adair's  reply  was  stern  and  inexorable.  He  re- 
cited all  the  outrages,  real  and  fancied.  With  the  deepest 
regret  for  what  he  considered  a  necessity,  he  was  determined 


308  ^^W  IRELAND. 

to  evict  the  inhabitants  of  that  part  of  the  property.  Some 
of  known  good  character  he  avouIcI  not  disturb.  To  such  as 
had  brought  good  characters  from  the  reverend  appellants  he 
had  offered  mountain-holdings,  with  leases,  elsewhere.  I 
need  follow  his  plea  no  further.  The  man  who  conceives 
himself  to  be  "  a  savior  of  society"  has  a  pious  justification 
for  any  extremity  of  conduct, 

Ne^vs  of  the  storm  about  to  burst  upon  them  reached  the 
people  early  in  February,  1861.  Some  realized  its  terrible 
import ;  but  the  majority  did  not.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  up 
to  the  hour  of  the  evictions,  few  of  them  would  believe  that 
such  a  menace  would  or  could  be  carried  out.  In  this  remote 
and  lonely  region  nothing  they  had  ever  heard  suggested  the 
})OSsession  of  such  a  power  by  any  one.  They  owed  no  rent. 
They  had  done  no  man  wrong.  Mr.  Adair,  on  the  4th  of 
February,  called  into  Dublin  Castle,  and  there  quietly  swore 
an  information,  that  being  about  to  serve  ejectment-notices  on 
his  tenants,  he  believed  the  life  of  the  bailiff  would  be  unsafe 
without  an  armed  escort.  The  resident  magistrate,  Mr.  Con- 
sidine,  who  gave  the  escort,  says  the  ejectments  "  were  served 
by  Mr.  Adair's  gamekeeper  without  the  least  hindrance  being 
offered  by  the  tenantry."  In  fact,  it  is  curious  to  notice  the 
fatal  calm  which  hung  over  the  valley  itself,  while,  unknown 
to  its  doomed  people,  the  "  outer  world" — the  magistrates  and 
police  officials,  nay,  the  executive  in  Dublin — were  in  no  little 
excitement  and  apprehension  as  the  evil  day  drew  near.  The 
correspondence  between  the  various  officials  and  public  de- 
partments as  to  the  drafting  and  concentration  of  police  de- 
tachments and  military  companies,  fills  several  pages  of  a 
blue-book.  The  dispositions  and  arrangements  were  almost 
as  formidable  as  if  Derryveigh  had  to  be  stormed  and  carried 
from  an  intrenched  army.  INIr.  Cruikshank,  the  sub-sheriff, 
writing  to  Sir  Thomas  Larcom,  Under-Secretary,  says  that 
besides  two  hundred  constabulary  being  drafted  from  various 


THE  FATE   OF  GLENVEIH.  309 

parts,  he  will  require  some  military  with  tents  and  baggage 
to  be  sent  from  Dublin : 

"  I  have  therefore  to  request  that  one  oflScer  and  thirty  rank  and  file 
be  ordered  to  meet  rae  at  Lough  Burra,  on  Monday  the  8th  instant,  at 
twelve  o'clock,  in  aid  of  the  civil  power.  If  the  party  leave  Dublin  by 
rail  on  Friday  morning,  they  will  reach  Strabane  at  four  o'clock,  wait 
there  that  night ;  march  next  day  to  Letterkenny,  a  distance  of  four- 
teen Irish  miles,  rest  there  Sunday,  and  meet  me  and  the  constabulary 
early  on  Monday.  As  it  is  likely  the  force  will  be  employed  Monday 
and  Tuesday  and  part  of  Wednesday,  I  would  suggest  for  your  consid- 
eration the  prudence,  if  not  necessity,  of  the  soldiers  being  provided 
with  tents,  as  it  will  be  impossible  in  a  mountain-country  such  as  Glen- 
veih  to  get  for  them  accommodation  for  the  night ;  and  after  remaining 
some  time  under  arms  they  could  not  march  back  to  Letterkenny,  nearly 
ten  Irish  miles,  and  return  the  next  day." 

On  the  night  of  Sunday  the  7th  of  April  the  several  de- 
tachments had  clo.sed  in  around  the  place,  occupying  or  com- 
manding the  only  available  entrances  or  passes.  Still  the 
hapless  people,  in  fatal  confidence,  slumbered  on.  It  was 
like  the  sleep  of  the  Macdonalds  on  the  night  before  Glen- 
coe. 

In  the  early  morning  of  Monday,  the  8th  of  April,  1861, 
the  sight  of  the  red-coats  and  the  glitter  of  bayonets  at  the 
southern  entrance  to  the  valley  gave  signal  of  alarm  ;  and 
from  house  to  house,  and  hill  to  hill,  along  Lough  Gartan, 
side,  a  halloo  was  sent  afar.  Soon  there  rose  on  the  morning 
air  a  wail  that  chilled  even  the  sternest  heart.  The  ])oor 
people  came  out  of  their  cabins  in  groups,  and  looked 
at  the  approaching  force,  and  there  burst  from  the  women 
and  children  a  cry  of  agony  that  pierced  the  heavens. 
The  special  correspondent  of  the  Derry  Standard,  a  leading 
Presbyterian  journal  in  the  neighboring  county,  gives  the 
following  account  of  what  he  saw:  "The  first  eviction  was 
one  peculiarly  distressing,  and  the  terrible  reality  of  the  law 
suddenly  burst  with  surprise  on   the  spectators.      Having 


310  iV£IF  IRELASD. 

arrived  at  Loughbarra,  the  police  were  halted,  and  the  sheriff, 
with  a  small  escort,  proceeded  to  the  house  of  a  widow  named 
M'Award,  aged  sixty  years,  living  with  whom  were  six 
daughters  and  a  son.  Long  before  the  house  was  reached 
loud  cries  were  heard  piercing  the  air,  and  soon  the  figures 
of  the  poor  widow  and  her  daughters  were  observed  outside 
the  house,  where  they  gave  vent  to  their  grief  in  strains  of 
touching  agony.  Forced  to  discharge  an  unpleasant  duty, 
the  sheriff  entered  the  house  and  delivered  up  possession  to 
Mr.  Adair's  steward,  whereupon  six  men,  who  had  been 
brought  from  a  distance,  immediately  fell  to  to  level  the  house 
to  the  ground.  The  scene  then  became  indescribable.  The 
bereaved  widow  and  her  daughters  were  frantic  with  despair. 
Throwing  themselves  on  the  ground  they  became  almost  in- 
sensible, and  bursting  out  in  the  old  Irish  wail, — then  heard 
by  many  for  the  first  time, — their  terrifying  cries  resounded 
along  the  mountain-side  for  many  miles.  They  had  been  de- 
prived of  the  little  spot  made  dear  to  them  by  associations 
of  the  past,  and,  with  bleak  poverty  before  them,  and  only 
the  blue  sky  to  shelter  them,  they  naturally  lost  all  hope, 
aud  those  who  witnessed  tiieir  agony  will  never  forget  the 
sight.  No  one  could  stand  by  unmoved.  Every  heart  was 
touched,  and  tears  of  sympathy  flowed  from  many.  In  a 
short  time  we  withdrew  from  the  scene,  leaving  the  widow 
and  her  orphans  surrounded  by  a  small  group  of  neigh- 
bors, who  could  only  express  their  sympathy  for  the  home- 
less, without  possessing  the  power  to  relieve  them.  During 
that  and  the  next  two  days  the  entire  holdings  in  the  lands 
mentioned  above  were  visited,  and  it  was  not  until  an  ad- 
vanced hour  on  Wednesday  tiie  evictions  were  finished.  In 
all  the  evictions  the  distress  of  the  poor  people  was  equal  to 
that  depicted  in  the  first  case.  Dearly  did  they  cling  to  their 
homes  till  the  last  moment,  and  while  the  male  population 
bestirred  themselves  in  clearing  the  houses  of  what  scanty 


THE  FATE   OF  GLENVEIH.  311 

furniture  they  contained,  the  women  and  children  remained 
within  till  the  sheritiP's  bailiif  warned  them  out,  and  even 
then  it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  tear  themselves  away 
from  the  scenes  of  happier  days.  In  many  cases  they  bade 
an  affectionate  adieu  to  their  former  peaceable  but  now  des- 
olate homes.  One  old  man  near  the  fourscore  years  and  ten 
on  leucine/  his  home  for  the  last  time  reverently  kissed  the  door- 
posts, with  all  the  impassioned  tenderness  of  an  emigrant  leaving 
his  native  land.  His  wife  and  children  followed  his  example, 
and  in  agonized  silence  the  afflicted  family  stood  by  and 
watched  the  destruction  of  their  dwelling.  In  another  case 
an  old  man,  aged  ninety,  who  was  lying  ill  in  bed,  was 
brought  out  of  the  house  in  order  that  formal  possession 
might  be  taken,  but  readmitted  for  a  week  to  permit  of  his 
removal.  In  nearly  every  house  there  was  some  one  far  ad- 
vanced in  age, — many  of  tliem  tottering  to  the  grave, — while 
the  sobs  of  helpless  children  took  hold  of  every  heart.  "When 
dispossessed,  the  families  grouped  themselves  on  the  ground 
beside  the  ruins  of  their  late  homes,  having  no  place  of 
refuge  near.  The  dumb  animals  refused  to  leave  the  wall- 
steads,  and  in  some  cases  were  with  difficulty  rescued  from 
the  falling  timbers.  As  night  set  in,  the  scene  became  fear- 
fully sad.  Passing  along  the  base  of  the  mountain  the  spec- 
tator might  have  observed  near  to  each  house  its  former 
inmates  crouching  round  a  turf  fire,  close  by  a  hedge ;  and 
as  a  drizzling  rain  poured  upon  them  they  found  no  cover, 
and  were  entirely  exposed  to  it, — but  only  sought  to  warm 
their  famished  bodies.  Many  of  them  were  but  miserably 
clad,  and  on  all  sides  the  greatest  desolation  was  apparent. 
I  learned  afterwards  that  the  great  majority  of  them  lay  out 
all  night,  either  behind  the  hedges  or  in  a  little  wood  which 
skirts  the  lake;  they  had  no  other  alternative.  I  believe 
many  of  them  intend'  resorting  to  the  poorhouse.  There 
these  poor  starving  people  remain  on  the  cold  bleak  raouu- 


312  ^"EW  IRELAND. 

tains,  no  one  caring  for  them,  whether  they  live  or  die.    'Tis 
horrible  to  think  of,  but  more  horrible  to  behold." 

This  news  reached  me  in  Dublin.  I  had  been  striving 
hard  for  these  poor  people.  I  had,  especially  since  my  visit 
to  a  neighboring  district  three  years  before,  felt  the  deepest, 
the  most  earnest  interest  in  them.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say, 
even  now,  that  I  wept  like  a  child.  But  idle  weeping  could 
avail  nothing  for  the  victims.  What  should  we  do  now? 
They  must  not  perish.  They  must  be  saved.  So  vowed 
some  friends  who  felt  as  deeply  as  I  did  their  unmerited 
fate.  Public  opinion  was  stirred  to  its  depths  by  this  terrible 
event.  Our  journals  called  at  once  for  public  aid,  and  it 
was  promptly  forthcoming.  A  local  committee  of  relief 
was  organized,  and  an  appeal  to  Christian  hearts  all  over 
the  world  was  issued.  This  remarkable  document  bore  the 
signatures  of  the  Catholic  bishop,  the  most  Rev.  Dr.  Mc- 
Gettigan  ;  the  Episcopalian  Protestant  rector.  Rev.  Mr.  Ma- 
turin ;  the  Presbyterian  minister.  Rev.  Mr.  Jack  ;  and  the 
Catholic  parish  priest,  Rev.  Mr.  Kair.  It  told  the  whole 
story,  and  refuted  in  warm  language  the  aspersions  and  accu- 
sations that  had  been  used  as  a  pretext  for  the  desolation. 
The  appeal  was  most  liberally  answered  at  home.  Men  of 
all  ranks  and  classes,  creeds  and  parties,  poured  in  their  con- 
tributions. But  the  crowning  act  of  rescue  was  the  work  of 
Irishmen  far  away  under  the  Southern  Cross.  The  (Aus- 
tralian) Donegal  Celtic  Relief  Committee,  established  in  Mel- 
bourne,— mainly  by  the  exertions  of  the  late  Hon.  Michael 
O'Grady,  M.L.C.,  to  whom  I  had  early  written  on  the 
subject, — decided  to  bring  out  to  "  liappy  homes  and  altars 
free"  these  victims  of  a  heartless  wrong.  Ample  funds  were 
at  once  supplied,  and  an  official  agent  of  the  Victorian  Gov- 
ernment was  despatched  to  make  special  arrangements  in 
conjunction  with  the  local  committee  in  Ireland  for  eifecting 
this  generous  purpose.     The  news  created  a  great  sensation 


THE  FATE   OT  GLENVEIH.  313 

in  Donegal.  The  poor  people  were  sought  out  and  collected. 
Some  by  this  time  had  sunk  beneath  their  sufferings.  One 
man,  named  Bradley,  had  lost  his  reason  under  the  shock. 
Other  cases  were  nearly  as  heart-rending.  There  were  old 
men  who  would  keep  wandering  over  the  hills  in  view  of 
their  ruined  homes,  full  of  the  idea  that  some  day  Mr.  Adair 
might  let  them  return,  but  who  at  last  had  to  be  borne  to  the 
distant  workhouse  hospital  to  die.  With  a  strange  mixture 
of  joy  and  sadness  the  survivors  heard  that  friends  in  Aus- 
tralia had  paid  their  way  to  a  new  and  better  land.  On  the 
day  they  were  to  set  out  for  the  railway-station,  en  route  for 
Liverpool,  a  strange  scene  was  witnessed.  The  cavalcade 
was  accompanied  by  a  concourse  of  neighbors  and  sympa- 
thizers. They  had  to  pass  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
ancient  burial-ground,  where  "  the  rude  forefathers"  of  the 
valley  slept.  They  halted,  turned  aside,  and  proceeded  to 
the  grass-grown  cemetery.  Here  in  a  body  they  knelt,  flung 
themselves  on  the  graves  of  their  relatives,  which  they  rev- 
erently kissed  again  and  again,  and  raised  for  the  last  time 
the  Irish  caoine  or  funeral  wail.  Then — some  of  them 
pulling  tufts  of  grass  which  they  placed  in  their  bosoms — 
they  resumed  their  way  on  the  road  to  exile.  At  Dublin  I 
saw  them  as  they  halted  between  the  arrival  of  their  train 
and  the  departure  of  the  'cross-Channel  boat  for  Liverpool. 
As  they  marched  through  the  streets  to  a  restaurant,  where 
dinner  had  been  provided  for  them,  they  excited  the  greatest 
curiosity  and  interest.  "The  emigrants,  male  and  female," 
said  one  of  the  city  papers,  "■  presented  an  appearance  well 
calculated  to  excite  admiration  and  sympathy.  A  finer  body 
of  men  and  women  never  left  any  country.  In  stature  tall, 
with  handsome  and  well-shaped  features  full  of  kindly  ex- 
pression, they  filled  the  breixst  of  every  spectator  with  regret 
that  such  a  people  should  be  lost  to  us  forever."  They  were 
being  accompanied  as  far  as  Liverpool  by  the  Rev.  James 

27 


314  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

McFadden,  a  fine-hearted  young  priest  who  had  labored  de- 
votedly for  them  from  the  first  hour  of  their  misfortunes.  I 
quote  from  the  same  journal  the  following  account  of  his 
farewell  address,  a  scene  which  it  was  impossible  to  behold 
unmoved : 

"  "When  dinner  had  concluded,  Rev.  Mr.  McFadden,  amidst  the  most 
solemn  stillness,  briefly  addressed  the  assemblage  ;  and  it  was  a  most 
touching  sight.  He  spoke  in  the  Gaelic  tongue,  the  language  of  their 
homes  and  firesides  ere  Adair  had  levelled  the  one  and  quenched  the 
other  forever.  As  the  young  priest  spoke,  his  own  voice  full  of  emotion, 
the  painful  silence  all  around  soon  became  broken  by  the  sobs  of  women 
and  tears  flowed  freely  down  many  a  cheek.  He  reminded  them  that 
was  their  last  meal  partaken  of  on  Irish  soil ;  that  in  a  few  hours  they 
would  have  left  Ireland  forever.  He  spoke  of  their  old  homes  amidst 
the  Donegal  hills  ;  of  the  happy  daj-s  passed  in  the  now  silent  and  deso- 
late valley  of  Derryveih  ;  of  the  peace  and  happiness  that  they  had 
known  then,  because  they  were  contented,  and  were  free  from  tempta- 
tions and  dangers  of  which  the  busy  world  was  full.  He  reminded  them 
of  their  simple  lives  ;  the  Sunday  mass,  so  regularly  attended  ;  the  con^ 
fession  ;  the  consolations  of  faith.  Many  a  cheek  was  wet  as  he  alluded 
to  how  they  would  be  missed  by  the  priest  whose  flock  they  were.  But 
most  of  all  their  lot  was  sorrowful  in  the  fact  that,  while  other  emigrants 
left  behind  them  parents  and  relatives  over  whom  the  old  roof-tree  re- 
mained, they,  alas!  left  theirs  under  no  shelter  of  a  home;  they  left 
them  wanderers  and  outcasts,  trusting  to  workhouse  fare  or  wayside 
charity.  But  (said  he)  you  are  going  to  a  better  land,  a  free  country, 
where  there  are  no  tyrants,  because  there  are  no  slaves.  Friends  have 
reached  out  their  hands  to  you  ;  those  friends  await  you  on  the  shore  of 
that  l>etter  land.  And  here,  too,  in  this  city,  hearts  equally  true  and 
kindly  have  met  you.  Let  your  last  word  on  Irish  ground  be  to  thank 
the  good  gentleman  who  now  stands  by  my  side,  Mr.  Alexander  M. 
Sullivan.  He  it  is  who  has,  amidst  all  his  numerous  cares  of  business, 
found  time  to  make  these  arrangements  to  meet  your  -wants  and  make 
you  comfortable  in  passing  through  this  city.  Busy  as  this  day  has  been 
with  him,  there  he  was  to  meet  us  at  the  train,  and  here  he  has  been 
attending  to  you  as  if  you  were  members  of  his  own  family.  But  it  is 
only  part  of  a  long  work  of  goodness  done  for  the  people  of  Donegal 
since  first  on  that  memorable  Christmas  Eve  he  raised  the  first  call  for 
our  relief.  He  has  never  since  taken  his  hand  from  the  work  he  began 
that  day.     Let  us,  with  our  last  words,  thank  him  and  his  friends  who 


THE  FATE   OF  GLENVEIH.  315 

have  met  us  this  evening  and  cared  for  us  so  well.  And  now,  dear 
brothers,  we  shall  be  departing.  Before  you  take  your  foot  off  your 
native  land,  promise  me  here  that  you  will,  above  all  things,  be  faithful 
to  your  God,  and  attend  to  your  religious  duties,  under  whatever  cir- 
cumstances you  may  be  placed  (sobs,  and  cries  of  "We  will,  we  will"). 
Never  neglect  your  night  and  morning  prayers,  and  never  omit  to  ap- 
proach the  Blessed  Eucharist  at  least  at  Christmas  and  Easter.  And, 
boys,  don't  forget  poor  old  Ireland  (intense  emotion,  and  cries  of  "  Never 
— never,  God  knows!") — don't  forget  the  old  people  at  home,  boys. 
Sure  they  will  be  counting  the  days  till  a  letter  comes  from  you.  And 
they'll  be  praying  for  you,  and  we  will  all  pray  God  to  be  with  you." 

Standing  on  the  quay  at  Dublin  I  bade  these  poor  people 
a  last  adieu,  and  prayed  that  God  might  requite  thera  under 
happier  skies  for  the  cruel  calamities  that  had  befallen  them 
at  home.  Six  months  later  Mr.  O'Grady  wrote  to  me  a  de- 
tailed account  of  their  progress.  Every  one  oi  them  was 
"  doing  well,"  he  said ;  "  a  credit  to  the  old  land," 

In  the  autumn  of  last  year  I  revisited  Donegal.  I  sat  upon 
the  shore  of  that  lonely  lake,  and  looked  down  the  shadowed 
valley.  On  a  jutting  point,  beneath  the  lofty  slope  of  the 
wooded  mountain,  Mr.  Adair  has  built  a  castle.  It  may  be 
that  the  charms  which  Selkirk  could  not  discover  in  solitude 
delight  him  in  "  this  desolate  place."  No  doubt  "  the  en- 
chanting beauty"  which  he  said  first  drew  him  to  the  spot  is 
unimpaired  to  the  view  :  Glenveih  is  and  ever  will  be  beau- 
tiful. But  for  my  part,  as  I  gazed  upon  the  scene,  my  sense 
of  enjoyment  was  mingled  with  memories  full  of  pain.  My 
thoughts  wandered  back  to  that  terrible  April  morning  on 
Gartan  side.  In  fancy  I  heard  rolling  across  those  iiills  the 
widow's  wail,  the  women's  parting  cry.  I  thought  of  the 
farewell  at  the  graves,  of  the  crowd  upon  the  fore-deck  of 
that  steamer.  Again  I  marked  their  tears,  their  sobs.  Once 
more,  above  the  paddle's  plash  and  the  seamen's  bustling 
shout,  I  thought  I  heard  the  wafted  prayer  of  "  God  be  with 
Glenveih  !" 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE   FENIAX   MOVEMENT. 

The  easy  suppression  of  the  Phoenix  conspiracy  in  1858 
led  to  many  false  conclusions.  Every  one  assumed  tliat  there 
Avas  an  end  of  the  aifair.  ]Many  treated  it  with  great  derision. 
The  prisoners  were  now  discharged.  The  attempt  to  prepare 
the  way  for  revolution  by  a  secret  society  had  apparently 
failed  and  been  abandoned.  So  fully  were  I  and  many  others 
under  this  impression  that  we  felt  very  wroth  because  that 
at  the  moment  we  were  pleading  with  the  Crown  authori- 
ties in  behalf  of  the  prisoners,  some  Irishmen  in  Xew  York 
were  indulging  in  vaunt  and  defiance  calculated  to  alarm  and 
irritate  the  Government.  Plad  there  been  knowledge  or  sus- 
jiicion  that  the  movement  was  not  then  relinquished,  no  such 
ap})eals  would  have  been  made,  and  assui'edlv  none  would 
have  succeeded.  Even  some  of  the  men  erstwhiles  enrolled 
in  the  Phoenix  Society  fully  believed  the  project  was  irre- 
trievably exploded.  All,  however,  were  under  a  great 
delusion. 

A  condition  of  thing-s  had  now  and  for  the  first  time  arisen 
which  was  to  exercise  potential  influence  ever  afterwards  in 
Irish  affairs.  'Hitherto  the  base  of  operations  in  rebellious 
or  seditious  attempts  had  been  within  the  country  itself.  The 
Government  were  always  able  to  strike  the  movement  at  its 
heart.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  a  base  of  operations  had 
been  established  out  of  Ireland.  Not  soon  did  people  realize 
wdiat  an  enormous  difference  this  made  in  dealing  with  Irish 
disaffection.  While  Dublin  city  was  the  headquarters  of  the 
malcontents,  their  plans,  their  persons,  their  fate  and  fortunes 
31G 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  317 

were  any  clay  within  the  grasp  of  the  Crown.  Not  so  when 
America  became  the  base,  and  New  York  headquarters.  The 
Queen's  writ  did  not  run  in  Manhattan. 

The  failure  of  the  "  Phoenix"  attempt  in  Ireland  was, 
therefore,  regarded  by  the  American  organizers  as  merely  the 
misfire  of  a  first  cartridge.  They  would  lie  still  for  a  while, 
and  go  to  work  again. 

A  revolutionary  secret  society,  skilfully  handled,  is  certainly 
a  terrible  power.  It  has  enormous  advantages.  It  can  mingle 
in  and  use  all  other  organizations.  It  can  demoralize  opposing 
ranks  by  subtle  devices.  It  can  claim  an  extent  of  dominion 
and  resource  which  no  one  can  test  or  measure,  and  which  no 
one  therefore  can  venture  to  dispute  or  contradict.  The  public 
man  marked  out  for  its  hostility  can  be  struck  without  the 
power  of  returning  a  blow.  He  can  feel  that  he  is  being 
assailed,  yet  may  not  see  or  grapple  with  his  adversaries. 

I  was  for  several  years  fated  to  realize  this  fact,  to  expe- 
rience its  truth  and  force  in  ray  own  case.  Apart  from  the 
antagonism  which  any  one  conducting  the  Nation — as  the 
organ  of  the  O'Brien  and  Gavan  Duffy  party,  or  Grattan 
Nationalists — was  sure  to  incur  from  the  Separatist  leaders, 
I  early  fell  under  their  special  displeasure.  From  under- 
rating the  influence  of  the  Nation  Mr.  Stephens  passed  to,  as 
I  think,  overrating  it.  He  considered,  or  pretended  to  con- 
sider, that  it  was  the  remonstrances  of  the  Nation  that 
had  alone  put  down  his  Phoenix  attempt.  He  was  a  man 
who  always  blamed  somebody  else — never  himself — for  any- 
thing that  befell  his  plans.  As  Mr,  O'Connor,  Dr.  Mulcahy, 
Mr.  Devoy,  and  many  other  of  his  colleagues  have  since  very 
bitterly  proclaimed,  absolute  and  implicit  belief  in  him,  in 
his  unerring  sagacity  and  all-conquering  ability,  was  the  basis 
of  the  system  he  propounded.  He  very  cleverly  averted 
reproach  from  himself  as  to  the  fate  of  his  first  endeavor  by 
steadily  inculcating  the  story  that  it  was  Sullivan  and  the 

27* 


318  NEW  IRELAND. 

Nation  that  did  it  all.  From  his  point  of  view  the  resolu- 
tion he  thereupon  came  to  was,  at  any  rate,  intelligible.  It 
was  that  in  order  to  succeed  the  next  time,  Sullivan  and  the 
Nation,  and  indeed  the  whole  nuisance  of  constitutional 
politics,  must  be  put  down.  The  Duffy  policy  had  had  its 
fair  trial  from  1850  to  1853 ;  the  constitutional  Nationalists 
ought  now  to  stand  aside  and  yield  the  field  to  men  who  were 
ready  with  a  bolder  scheme.  In  one  way,  and  one  way  only, 
could  Ireland  be  saved, — by  force  of  arms.  Every  effort, 
word,  or  suggestion  that  distracted  the  people  from  this  one 
object  was  held  to  be  criminal,  a  thing  to  be  crushed  with  the 
strong  hand.  Newspapers,  meetings,  speeches,  public  soci- 
eties, or  organizations  were  declared  to  be  pernicious  in  the 
highest  degree.  In  fine,  every  outlet  of  public  opinion  \vas 
to  be  stopped,  every  utterance  forbidden ;  every  energy  was 
to  be  concentrated  upon  the  one  great  purpose  of  cons})iracy. 

AVith  these  sentiments,  principles,  and  purposes,  Mr.  Ste- 
phens set  iiimself  to  the  task  of  reconstructing  his  shattered 
organization. 

Although  most  of  the  National  leaders  best  known  to  the 
Irish  people — the  chiefs  of  the  "Forty-eight"  movement — 
held  aloof  from  or  censured  this  scheme,  its  authors  were 
fortunate  in  obtaining  for  it  the  co-operation  of  a  few  men 
whose  rare  abilities  and  invincible  courage  and  fidelity  ren- 
dered them  of  priceless  value  in  such  a  movement.  Fore- 
most among  these  must  be  named  Charles  J.  Kickham,  John 
O'Leary,  and  Tiiomas  Clarke  Luby. 

Charles  Kickham  was  originally  intended  for  the  medical 
profession,  as  indeed  were  Messrs.  O'Leary  and  Luby.  He 
belonged  to  a  family  occupying  a  respectable  position  in  Mul- 
linahone,  county  Tipperary;  one  greatly  esteemed  and  trusted 
by  the  people  for  miles  around.  From  his  youth  Charles 
was  a  popular  favorite.  In  the  hottest  of  the  conflicts  which 
marked  the  public  course  of  the  Fenian  movement,  he  was 


THE  FES  I  AN  MOVEMENT.  319 

the  one  man  of  his  party  for  whom  even  the  fiercest  anti- 
Fenian  had  a  kindly  feeling  and  a  friendly  word.  A  lament- 
able accident  blighted  his  prospects  of  success  in  a  professional 
career.  He  was  fond  of  sporting.  One  evening,  after  a  day 
on  the  hills  with  dog  and  gun,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
received  a  serious  drenching,  he  sat  before  the  fire  drying  the 
contents  of  his  powder-flask,  that  had  got  damp.  A%  he  was 
stirring  or  examining  the  powder,  a  spark  from  the  peat  fire 
exploded  it  in  his  face.  He  lay  long  in  great  suffering,  and 
it  was  thought  he  would  totally  lose  his  sight.  When  he  re- 
covered, his  hearing  was  to  a  great  extent  destroyed,  and  his 
sight  considerably  impaired.*  This  calamity  only  intensified 
the  feelings  of  the  people  for  young  Charles.  He  became 
studious,  took  to  literary  pursuits,  and  contributed  to  a  little 
periodical  called  The  Celt  some  really  exquisite  poetry  of  the 
simple  ballad  class,  as  well  as  some  stories  of  Irish  peasant 
life  exhibiting  considerable  dramatic  power.  Those  who 
knew  his  gentle  amiable  nature,  his  modest  and  retiring 
character,  his  undemonstrative  ways,  marvelled  greatly  to 
find  him  in  the  forefront  of  such  an  enterprise  as  the  Fenian 
movement.  It  was,  however,  only  when  it  took  to  jour- 
nalism that  Kickham  was  called  upon  to  assume  a  post  of 
prominence. 

John  O'Leary  was  unquestionably  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  remarkable  men  in  the  conspiracy.  Intellectually  and 
politically  he  was  of  the  type  of  Wolfe  Tone,  Robert  Emmet, 
and  John  Mitchel.  An  eye-witness  describing  him  in  the 
dock,  when  on  his  trial  in  1865,  says,  "  He  stepped  to  the 
front  with  a  flash  of  fire  in  his  dark  eyes,  and  a  scowl  on  his 
features,  looking  hatred   and   defiance   on  judges,  lawyers, 

*  The  white  dust  and  glare  of  the  sun  in  the  Portland  convict  quar- 
ries have,  I  regret  to  say,  almost  totally  ruined  his  sight;  and  when  last 
I  met  him  his  hearing  was  so  far  gone  that  it  was  by  the  manual  alpha- 
bet he  was  spoken  to,  although  he  replied  by  voice  as  usual. 


320  ^^^  IRELAND. 

jurymen,  and  all  the  rest  of  them.  All  eyes  were  fixed  on 
him  ;  for  he  was  one  of  those  persons  whose  exterior  attracts 
attention  and  indicates  a  character  above  the  common.  He 
was  tall,  slightly  built,  and  of  gentlemanly  deportment. 
Every  feature  of  his  thin  angular  face  gave  token  of  great 
intellectual  energy  and  determination ;  its  pallid  hue  was 
rendered  almost  death-like  by  contrast  with  his  long  black 
hair  and  flowing  moustache  and  beard.  Easy  it  was  to  see 
that  when  the  Government  placed  John  O'Leary  in  the  dock 
they  had  caged  a  proud  spirit  and  an  able  and  resolute 
enemy."  He  was  born  in  Tipperary  town,  of  a  f;\mily  hold- 
ing a  good  position,  and  inherited  on  the  death  of  his  parents, 
to  his  share,  a  small  property  of  some  three  or  four  hundred 
pounds  a  year.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  Queen's  Univer- 
sity, having  taken  out  his  medical  degree  in  the  Queen's 
College,  Cork.  He  resided  for  some  time  in  Paris,  where  his 
mind,  his  tastes,  his  manners,  opinions,  and  principles  re- 
ceived impress  and  shape  discernible  in  his  subsequent  career. 
He  also  visited  America,  and  there  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  the  men  who  were  planning  and  devising  the  Fenian 
movement.  He  was  a  man  of  culture,  and  of  considerable 
literary  abilities.  I  met  him  on  a  few  occasions  at  the  house 
of  Dr.  Kevin  Izod  O'Doherty,  whose  wife,  the  poet&ss  "  Eva," 
was  his  cousin.  He  was  reserved,  sententious,  almost  cynical; 
keenly  observant,  sharply  critical,  full  of  restrained  passion. 

Thomas  Clarke  Luby  was  also  a  native  of  Tipperary ;  but, 
unlike  his  colleagues,  he  was  a  Protestant;  his  uncle,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Luby,  being  one  of  the  Senior  Fellows  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin.  Mr.  Luby  was  no  new  hand  at  seditious 
eifort.  Young  as  he  was  in  1848,  he  was  then  an  active 
member  of  M'hat  may  be  called  the  extreme  revolutionist,  or 
Mitchelite,  party.  From  1849  to  1854  he  occupied  himself 
occasionally  as  a  contributor  to  the  press,  and  sometimes  as  a 
collegiate  tutor.     In  1855  he  became  associate  editor  of  the 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  321 

Irish  Tribune,  a  serai-revolutionary  journal,  which  the  late 
Mason  Jones  and  other  advanced  Irish  Nationalists  published 
for  some  short  time  in  Dublin.  His  politics  were  a  great 
affliction  to  relatives  who  were  in  a  position  to  advance  him, 
and  who  would  have  done  so  if  he  would  but  give  up  such 
dangerous  doctrines.  He  prefeiTed  to  struggle  on  for  him- 
self, holding  by  his  principles,  such  as  they  were.  This 
course  he  pursued  unfalteringly  to  the  last. 

On  tlie  American  side  the  movement  was  projected  under 
the  direction  of  John  O'Mahony,  Michael  Doheny,  and  Col- 
onel Corcoran,  of  the  Sixty-ninth  (Irish)  New  York  regiment, 
-^-the  first-named  being  supreme.  The  original  plan,  described 
already  in  O'Donovan  Rossa's  words,  was  still  pursued.  The 
Irish  in  America  were  to  be  enrolled  in  "  circles,"  or  groups, 
like  the  Irish  at  home.  But  the  functions  of  the  former 
were  chiefly  to  supply  "  the  home  organization,"  as  it  was 
called,  with  funds,  arms,  and  military  commanders.  Later 
on  the  American  section  decided  furthermore  to  co-operate 
with  the  home  movement  by  an  attack  on  the  British  domin- 
ions near  at  hand,  and  by  the  despatch  of  privateers.  Each 
"  circle"  was  presided  over  by  an  officer  called  a  Centre.  Mr. 
O'Mahony  was  Head  Centre.  He  it  was  who  designated 
his  branch  of  the  organization  by  the  name  of  "  Fenians." 
He  was  much  given  to  Gaelic  studies,  and  lived  or  dreamed  a 
great  deal  in  ancient  Ireland.*  The  Irish  national  militia 
seventeen  centuries  ago  were  called  the  "  Fiana  Erion,"  or 
Fenians,  from  Fenius,  Fin,  or  Fion,  their  famous  commander. 
After  this  force  O'Mahony  called  the  Irish-American  enrol- 
ment. Mr.  Stephens,  however,  preferred  for  the  home  section 
the  name  of  "  Irish  Revolutionary  Brotherhood ;"  shortened 
into  "  the  I.  R.  B.,"  by  which  brief  designation  it  was  gen- 

*  He  executed  the  admirable  translation  of  Keatings's  "  History  of 
Ireland,"  published  by  Haverty  of  New  York. 

V 


322  ^^^^y^  IRELAND. 

erally  referred  to  by  the  members.  In  Ireland  the  enrolment 
also  was  in  circles  or  groups ;  the  officers  being  styled  A's, 
B's,  and  C's,  according  to  their  rank.  Mr.  Stephens  exercised 
supreme  and  absolute  authority  in  the  home  organization. 
His  official  title  was  the  "  C.  O.  I.  R.,"  or  Central  Organizer 
of  the  Irish  Republic.  He  willed  and  declared  a  republic  to 
be  erected  in  Ireland  ;  and,  accordingly,  the  oath  of  initiation 
bound  each  member  to  yield  allegiance  to  "  the  Irish  rej>ublic 
now  virtually  established."*  AVhen  a  person  authorized  by 
him  had  sworn  in  not  more  than  fifty  members  in  a  locality, 
they  were  constituted  a  "  circle,"  of  which  such  person  then 
became  the  B  or  Centre.  In  due  time  it  would  be  his  duty, 
when  the  C.  O.  I.  R.  sent  him  a  drill-master,  to  see  that  his 
men  were  safely  and  secretly  taught  military  exercises. 
]\Ieanwhile  he  and  his  circle  were  to  act  in  a  general  way 
for  the  furtherance  of  the  movement, — by  organizing  new 
circles,  by  discouraging  and  repressing  public  meetings  of  a 
"  distracting"  character,  and  by  putting  down  public  men  or 
journals  who  in  any  way  hindered  or  opposed  the  organization. 
There  were  in  1858,  on  the  starting  of  this  enterprise, 
several  Irish- American  newspapers  ardently  devoted  to  the 
cause  of  Irish  nationality.  In  New  York  city  alone  there 
were  at  least  two;  one  was  the  Irkh  News,  established  by 
Thomas  Francis  INIeagher ;  the  other  the  Irish  Amaican, 
then,  as  now,  the  leading  organ  of  Irish  Nationalism  in  the 
United  States.  Even  witii  these  journals  the  Fenian  leaders 
quarrelled  as  strongly  as  with  the  Nation  ;  so  they  decided  to 
establish  a  special  organ  of  the  movement,  which  accord- 
ingly appeared  as  the  Phcenix  newspaper,  in  New  York. 
In  this  journal  they  struck  out  vigorously,  right,  left,  and 

*Very  evidently  many  of  the  rank  and  file  were  not  quite  clear  as  to 
what  the  word  "virtually"  meant;  for  much  merriment  arose  during 
some  of  the  trials  when  tiie  approvers  declared  thej'  were  sworn  to  obey 
"  the  Irish  republic  now  virtuously  established." 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  323 

centre,  at  everything  and  everybody  supposed  to  be  inimical 
to  their  undertaking.  They  had  no  need  to  waste  words  in 
rousing  the  ire  of  their  readers  against  England.  The  Irish 
in  America — the  maddened  fugitives  of  the  dreadful  famine 
and  eviction  times — hated  the  British  power  with  quenchless 
hate.  The  obstacles  that  most  concerned  the  secret  leaders 
arose  from  the  opposition  given  to  their  scheme  by  the 
Catholic  clergy  and  the  open-policy  or  anti-Fenian  Nation- 
alists. The  Catholic  Church  condemns  oath-bound  secret 
societies,  —  especially  if  directed  to  the  subversion  of  the 
civil  power  or  the  overthrow  of  religion, — for  several  reasons. 
First,  regarding  the  sanctity  of  an  oath,  it  denies  that  any 
one  who  chooses  can,  for  any  purpose  he  pleases,  formally  ad- 
minister or  impose  that  solemn  obligation.  Secondly,  having 
regard  to  the  safety  of  society,  of  public  order,  of  morals 
and  religion,  it  prohibits  the  erection  of  any  such  barrier 
between  the  objects  and  operations  of  a  society,  and  authori- 
tative examination  and  judgment.  Over  this  critical  and 
important  issue  the  Fenian  movement,  on  its  very  threshold, 
was  plunged  into  a  bitter  war  with  the  ecclesiastical  authori- 
ties of  the  Catholic  Church.  "  The  priest  has  no  right  to 
interfere  in  or  dictate  our  politics,"  said  the  Fenian  leaders  ; 
"ours  is  a  political  movement;  they  must  not  question  us  or 
impede  us."  "You  cannot  be  admitted  to  the  sacraments 
until  you  give  up  and  repent  of  illicit  oaths,"  responded  the 
Catholic  priests;  "and  if  you  contumaciously  continue  in 
membership  of  an  oath-bound  secret  society,  you  are  liable 
to  excommunication."  "Do  you  hear  this ? — we  are  cursed 
by  the  Church  for  loving  our  country !"  exclaimed  the  Fe- 
nians ;  and  so  for  the  first  five  years,  from  1860  to  1865,  the 
struggle  between  the  Catholic  clergy  and  the  Fenian  organ- 
izers was  fierce,  violent,  and  unsparing.  A  really  active  "B," 
or  Fenian  centre,  had  need  to  be  a  man  who  cared  little  for 
the  priest's  denunciations,  and  who  could  persuade  the  people 


324  ^^^W  IRELAND. 

it  was  "  the  Maynooth  oath  and  the  gold  of  England"  that 
made  Father  Tom  so  ready  to  "curse"  the  cause.  The  priests, 
accordingly,  complained  that  the  propagators  of  Feniauism 
were  men  who  paid  little  regard  to  clerical  authority  and 
shunned  the  practices  of  faith.  One  can  see  how  out  of  an- 
tagonistic views  thus  pressed  the  quarrel  eventuated  in  the 
Fenians  denouncing  the  priests  as  deadly  foes  of  Irish  nation- 
ality, and  the  priests  denouncing  the  Fenians  as  enemies  of 
the  Church, —  men  who  would  overthrow  the  altar  and 
destroy  society. 

Very  similar  was  the  conflict  between  the  secret  organiza- 
tion and  the  non-Fenian  or  anti-Fenian  Nationalists;-  the 
great  object  of  the  Fenian  leaders  being  that  the  people 
should  have  no  alternative  patriotic  effort  between  embracing 
their  enterprise  and  siding  with  imperial  subjugation.  In- 
deed, a  reference  to  the  pages  of  the  Fenian  newspapers,  and 
to  the  public  chronicles  of  the  period,  will  show  that  the 
.movement  during  the  four  years  following  1860  was  directed 
less  against  the  English  Government  than  against  those  Irish 
Nationalists,  priests  and  laymen,  whose  influence  was  sup- 
posed to  impede  the  organization. 

The  official  organ,  or  gazette,  thus  established  in  New 
York,  waged  war  all  round,  and  roused  up  antagonisms  in- 
numerable. A  weekly  column,  or  department,  was  devoted 
to  a  "Hue  and  Cry,"  giving  descriptions  of  "informers"  and 
'other  obnoxious  persons  to  be  looked  after, — a  hint  not  likely 
to  be  neglected  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Here  is  a 
sample : 

"ROCK'S    HUE-AND-CRY. 

"THE    BLACK    LIST. 

"  Callaghan,  Pat,  Callan,  county  Kilkenny. — Five  feet  six  in 
height ;  stout,  and  squarely  built ;  27  years  of  age ;  supposed  to  be  in 
New  Zealand. 

"  Carolak,   Ballyxahinch,   county   Down. — Five   feet   seven    in 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  325 

height;  60  years  of  age  ;  blue  eyes,  gray  hair,  and  long,  thin  features; 
supposed  to  be  prowling  round  Belfast. 

"  William  Everitt  ...  is  about  45  years  of  age,  five  feet  ten 
inches  in  height,  with  a  lank  body,  apparently  possessing  the  flexibility 
of  a  bamboo,  and  suggesting  the  idea  that  it  was  with  reluctance  Nature 
threw  him  on  the  earth  as  an  encumbrance.  .  .  .  Poor  wretch  !  Nsf- 
ture,  at  his  birth,  was  niggard  of  her  bounties.  He  may  depend  on  it, 
Kock  has  a  long  memory,  and  that  his  police  are  watchful  of  the  move- 
ments of  the  sp3'. 

"  Michael  Burke. — The  fellow  needs  no  further  notice  from  Eock. 
He  is  mad,  and  lodged  in  a  Dr.  Osborne's  asylum.  Number  One — 
"What  a  grim  moral  follows  the  history  of  his  'information!'  Had 
be  not  sold  himself  for  gold,  he  would  have  been  to-day  in  no  lunatic 
asylum." 

There  were  every  week  official  "  Decrees"  and  "  General 
Orders ;"  and  a  secret  committee  with  an  ominous  name,  the 
'*  Committee  of  Public  Safety,"  was  charged  to.  mark  all 
men  who  had  "striven  to  injure  the  organization  by  word  or 
deed."  Much  more  serious  was  the  fact  that,  for  the  first 
time  in  Irish  annals,  assassination  was  publicly  lauded  as  a 
patriotic  duty.  With  horror  we  read  such  articles  as  the 
following : 

"At  home  there  is  no  bold  voice  raised  from  press  or  pulpit  against 
the  extermination  of  the  people.  There  are  complaints  innumerable, — 
there  are  remonstrances  and  arguments  to  show  it  is  wrong,  ruinous, 
inexpedient  to  shovel  the  people  from  their  holdings  into  the  poorhouse 
and  ditches  ;  but  it  is  folly  to  argue  the  question,  more  especially  when 
the  press  designates  as  foul,  atrocious  murder  the  slaying  of  one  of  those 
arch  exterminators  who  is  to  the  district  he  owns  as  a  wild  beast  at  large. 
It  is  only  by  retaliation  and  reprisal  that  the  Irish  landlord  can  be 
brought  to  a  sense  of  justice.     Everything  else  is  unavailing." 

This  language  of  the  official  organ  was  followed  up  by  a 
newspaper  in  California  published  by  a  Mr.  Thomas  Mooney. 
He  weekly  advertLsed  a  reward  of  one  hundred  pounds  for 
any  one  who  would  murder  a  particular  gentleman  in  the 
county  Mayo,  whom  he  pointed  out  by  name.     About  this 

28 


326  -^^J^'  IRELAND. 

time  a  man  named  Beckham,  an  infamous  wretch  who  mur- 
dered for  lu're,  was  hanged  for  the  assassination  of  a  Mr. 
Fitzgerald  in  the  county  Limerick  under  the  most  brutal 
circumstances.  Mooney,  in  an  article  abusing  the  degenerate 
and  feeble  National  leaders  in  Ireland, — Smith  O'Brien  and 
Sullivan  of  the  Nation  in  particular, — declared  that  "one 
Beckham  was  worth  fifty  Smith  O'Briens."  AVhat  Ireland 
wanted  was  men  who  would  not  shrink  from  Beckham's  work. 
I  am  convinced  that  the  men  in  Ireland  on  whom  subse- 
quently fell  the  penalty  of  membership  in  the  Fenian  organi- 
zation would  be  incapable  of  approving  these  incentives;  but 
they  made  no  sign  and  spoke  no  word  in  public  at  the  time 
to  save  the  ancient  and  honorable  cause  of  Irish  nationality 
from  identification  with  them.  For  me,  in  view  of  public 
teachings  like  these,  put  forward  in  the  name  of  Irish  patri- 
otism, silence  was  impossible.  In  the  Xation  I  gave  utter- 
ance, no  doubt  v-ery  strongly,  to  the  indignation  which  I  felt, 
and  declared  for  myself,  and  those  whom  I  might  be  held  to 
represent,  that  we  would  rather  see  Ireland  reduced  to  a  cin- 
der than  "  liberated"  by  men  who  advocated  such  principles. 
The  result,  as  might  be  expected,  was  a  very  hurricane  of 
menace  and  denunciation  hurled  at  my  devoted  head.  Mr. 
Mooney  addressed  to  me,  through  the  pages  of  his  news- 
paper, a  letter  of  three  columns  or  ten  feet  in  length,  reiter- 
ating very  emphatically  the  doctrines  I  had  reprobated.  I 
quote  a  few  sentences: 

"  I  am  thoroughly  of  opinion,  sir,  tliat  words  or  grass  are  not  of  the 
slightest  avail  against  England,  or  against  her  pickets  and  vedettes  in 
Ireland, — that  is  to  say,  the  crow-har  landlords.  Nothing  but  bullets, 
sir,  will  avail ;  and  therefore  I  recommend  my  countrymen  to  shoot  the 
landlord  house-levellers  as  we  shoot  robbers,  or  rats,  at  night  or  in  the 
day,  on  the  roadside  or  in  the  market-place  ! 

"  That  I  oflered  a  reward  of  five  hundred  dollars  for  the  head  of 
3Iaj<)r  Brabazon  is  most  true.  True,  I  declared  that  the  killing  of  said 
Brabaxuu  was  'patriotic,  noble,  and  righteous.'" 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  327 

Then  he  describes  at  full  length  a  case  of  barbarous  evic- 
tion by  Mr.  Brabazon,  and  proceeds: 

"  Shoot  him  !     Yes. 

"  The  life  of  a  peasant  is  as  valuable  as  the  life  of  a  peer.  If  the  peer 
oppress  the  peasant  by  force  of  arms,  break  into  and  break  down  his 
house,  let  him  be  slain  wheresoever  he  shall  be  caught. 

"  You  have  dubbed  me  a  prophet  of  landlord  assassination :  I  accept 
the  distinction.  Let  them  look  out !  It  is  the  intention  of  many  a 
valiant  Irishman  to  return  to  Ireland  to  shoot  down  the  inhuman  scoun- 
drels whose  acts  we  have  noted  and  whose  names  we  have  registered. 

"  But  though  you  do  not  approve  my  plan  of  putting  down  the  Saxon 
power,  you  are,  you  say,  ready  for  a  fair  light.  'Blood,'  you  say,  'may 
yet  perhaps  be  spilled  in  fair  fight.  The  arms  employed  for  the  winning 
of  Irish  freedom  shall  not  be  the  knife  or  the  blunderbuss  of  the  assas- 
sin, and  no  stain  of  that  blood  which  cries  to  heaven  for  vengeance  shall 
be  found  upon  our  flag  when  its  full  breadth  of  green  and  gold  is  flung 
open  to  the  Avind.' 

"A  very  pretty  poetic  paragraph,  sir, — but  poetry  only.  A  'fair 
fight'  witli  the  Saxon,  quotha!  Hast  thou  read  the  history  of  the 
Saxons  ?  These  be  the  men  to  whom  you  beg  of  us  to  offer  '  fair  fight,' 
— they  armed  to  the  teeth,  supplied  with  artillery,  shot,  and  shell,  and 
we  elaborately  disarmed  by  the  cowardly  wretches  !     Bah  ! 

"  Bah  !  I  say  !     Ko  longer,  Sullivan,  be  ofiicer  of  mine." 

It  was  pot,  however,  the  Plicenix  in  New  York,  nor 
3Iooney's  J^xjiress  in  San  Francisco,  that  did  the  most  eifect- 
ive  work  for  the  Fenian  movement  in  Ireland.  That  move- 
ment was  to  a  considerable  extent  established  and  propagated 
by  the  unconsciously  rendered  aid  of  the  English  newspapers, 
chiefly  the  Times  and  the  Daily  News.  In  1859  and  1860 
the  Italian  question  was  the  subject  of  the  hour.  The  Eng- 
lish people,  the  English  press,  plunged  hotly  into  the  work 
of  encouraging  the  subjects  of  Pio  Nono  and  Francis  Joseph 
and  Ferdinand  to  conspire  and  rebel.  So  eager  were  the 
London  journals  to  press  the  Romans  or  Venetians  or  Sicil- 
ians into  revolt  that  they  were  blind  to  the  work  which  their 
words,  doctrines,  pleadings,  and  incentives  were,  at  that  very 
moment,  doing  in  Ireland.    Every  weapon  which  Mr.  Stephens 


328  -^"EIF   IRELAND. 

needed  for  the  purposes  of  his  secret  society  was  deftly  fash- 
ioned for  him  and  put  into  his  hand  by  the  Daily  News,  the 
Sun,  or  the  Times,  by  Lord  John  Russell  or  Lord  Ellenbor- 
ough.  Not  merely  were  the  Romagnols  told  that  every  people 
had  a  right  to  choose  their  own  rulers,  to  depose  the  old  and 
set  up  the  new,  but  they  were  told  that  the  amount  of  provo- 
cation or  justification  for  such  a  course,  how  often  or  when 
they  might  adopt  it,  was  for  themselves  and  no  one  else  to 
pronounce.     Said  the  Times,— 

"  That  government  should  be  for  the  good  of  the  governed,  and  that 
whenever  rulers  wilfully  and  persistently  postpone  the  good  of  their  sub- 
jects, either  to  the  interests  of  foreign  states,  or  to  abstract  theories  of 
religion  or  politics,  the  people  have  a  right  to  throw  off  the  yoke,  are 
princii)les  which  have  been  too  often  admitted  and  acted  upon  to  be  any 
longer  questioned." 

But  who  should  judge  all  this  ?  Here  is  the  reply  supplied 
by  the  great  English  journal : 

"  The  destiny  of  a  nation  ought  to  be  determined,  not  by  the  opinions 
of  other  nations,  but  by  the  opinion  of  the  nation  itself.  To  decide 
whether  they  are  well  governed  or  not,  or  rather  whether  the  degree  of 
extortion,  corruption,  and  cruelty  to  which  they  are  subject  is  sufficient 
to  justify  armed  resistance,  is  for  those  who  live  under  that  government, 
— not  for  those  who,  being  exempt  from  its  oppression,  feel  a  sentimental 
or  a  theological  interest  in  its  continuance." 

The  Daily  News  was  equally  explicit : 

"  Europe  has  over  and  over  again  affirmed  that  one  principle  on  which 
the  Italian  question  depends,  and  to  which  the  inhabitants  of  Central 
Italy  appeal, — the  right  of  a  people  to  choose  its  own  rulers." 

On  the  same  point  the  Times  : 

"  England  has  not  scrupled  to  avow  her  opinion  that  the  people  of  the 
Roman  States,  like  every  other  people,  have  a  right  to  choose  the  form 
of  their  own  government,  and  the  persons  in  whose  hands  that  govern- 
ment shall  be  placed." 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  329 

The  Sun  declared, — 

"  As  free  Englishmen  we  assert  the  rights  of  the  Romans,  and  of  all 
nations,  to  have  governors  of  their  own  choice." 

The  English  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Lord  John 
Russell,  speaking  at  Aberdeen,  enforced  the  same  doctrine. 
A  passage  in  the  Queen's  speech  affirmed  it.  Lord  Ellen- 
borough  hoped  the  Pope's  subjects  would  appeal  to  arms  as 
the  only  way  in  which  they  could  assert  their  right : 

"  I  will  hope  that,  stimulated  by  the  insults  to  Italj^  which  are  con- 
vej'ed  in  the  demands  France  is  about  to  make  in  the  Congress,  they 
will  rise  to  vindicate  their  right  to  choose  their  own  government,  and 
clutch  the  arms  by  which  alone  it  can  be  secured." 

Out  of  these  declarations  arose  in  Ireland  a  movement 
which  the  popular  journals  designated  "  Taking  England  at 
her  word."  The  Nation  proposed  that  a  National  Petition  in 
the  following  form  should  be  presented  to  the  Queen : 

"  That  petitioners  have  seen  with  deep  concern  the  recognition  of  the 
right  of  every  people  to  change  or  choose  their  rulers  and  form  of  gov- 
ernment, which  is  contained  in  the  speech  delivered  by  your  Majesty  at 
the  opening  of  the  present  session  of  Parliament,  and  also  contained  in 
the  speech  delivered  on  a  recent  occasion  at  Aberdeen  by  your  Majesty's 
Foreign  Secretary,  as  well  as  in  the  sjieeches  of  many  other  statesmen 
and  persons  of  high  position  in  England,  and  in  the  writings  of  the  most 
influential  English  newspapers. 

"  That  by  the  general  approval  with  which  those  speeches  and  writings 
have  been  received  in  England,  and  more  especially  by  the  course  of 
policy  pursued  by  your  Majesty's  Government  in  reference  to  the  late 
political  events  in  Central  Italy,  the  Sovereign,  the  Ministry,  the  Press, 
and  People  of  England  have,  in  the  most  distinct  and  public  manner, 
declared  their  approval  of  the  principle  that  every  people  who  believe 
themselves  to  be  ill-governed  have  a  right  to  change  the  system  of  gov- 
ernment which  is  displeasing  to  them,  and  to  substitute  for  it  one  of 
their  own  choice  ;  which  choice  may  be  declared  by  a  majority  of  the  votes 
which  shall  be  given  on  submitting  the  question  to  a  universal  suffrage. 

"  That,  as  is  well  known  to  your  Majesty,  from  petitions  emanating 

28* 


330  i\^£ir  IRELAND. 

from  meetings  at  which  millions  of  your  Majesty's  subjects  attended,  as 
well  as  from  other  events  at  various  times,  which  petitioners  deem  it 
unnecessary  to  specify,  a  very  strong  desire  exists  among  the  Irish  people 
to  obtain,  in  place  of  the  present  system  of  government  in  Ireland,  a 
restoration  of  their  native  parliament,  and  their  legislative  independence. 
That  petitioners  are  confident  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  Irish 
people  ardently  desire  this  restoration  of  their  national  constitution,  of 
which  they  believe  they  were  unjustly  deprived;  yet,  as  your  Majesty's 
advisers  may  have  led  you  to  believe  that  tbis  desire  for  a  domestic  legis- 
lature is  entertained  by  only  a  minority  of  the  population,  petitioners 
behold  in  the  proceeding  so  highly  approved  of  by  your  Majesty's  min- 
isters— viz.,  a  popular  vote  by  ballot  and  universal  suffrage — a  means 
by  which  the  real  wishes  of  a  majority  of  your  Majesty's  Irish  subjects 
ma}-  be  unmistakably  ascertained. 

"  Your  petitioners,  therefore,  pray  that  your  Majesty  may  be 
graciously  pleased  to  direct  and  authorize  a  public  vote  by  ballot  and 
universal  suffrage  in  Ireland,  to  make  known  the  wishes  of  the  people, 
whether  for  a  native  government  and  legislative  independence,  or  for 
the  existing  system  of  government  by  the  imperial  Parliament.  Pe- 
titioners trust  that  their  request  will  be  considered  stronger,  not  weaker, 
in  your  Majesty's  estimation,  for  being  made  respectfully,  peacefully, 
and  without  violence,  instead  of  being  marked  by  such  proceedings  as 
have  occurred  during  the  recent  political  changes  in  Italy,  which  have 
been  so  largely  a})proved  by  your  Majesty's  ministers. 

"And  petitioners,  as  in  duty  bound,  will  ever  pray." 

This  petition  received  the  signatures  of  over  half  a  million 
of  adult  Irishmen.  It  Mas  duly  presented.  It  was  never 
answered.  Still  the  English  people  went  on  declaring  that 
a  "  vote  of  the  population"  was  the  way  to  test  the  legitimacy 
or  oppressiveness  of  a  government.  Still  the  English  news- 
papers went  on  adjuring  subject  peoples  to  strike  if  they 
would  be  free.  Every  Fenian  organizer  had  these  quota- 
tions on  his  tongue.  The  fate  of  the  National  Petition  was 
pointed  to ;  the  contemptuous  silence  of  the  sovereign  Mas 
called  disdain  for  a  people  M'ho  MM)uld  not  clutch  the  arms 
M-hereby  alone  their  right  to  choose  their  om'u  government 
could  be  secured. 

One  article  there  M'as  in  the  London  Times — a  magnificent 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  33 1 

outburst  of  scathing  taunt  and  passionate  invective — which 
played  a  remarkable  part  in  the  Fenian  operations.  It  was 
the  gospel  of  organizers.  A  glance  at  it  will  show  that  it  was 
just  to  their  hand  : 

"  It  is  quite  time  that  all  the  struggling  nationalities  should  clearly 
understand  that  freemen  have  no  sympathy  with  men  who  do  nothing 
but  howl  and  shriek  in  their  fetters. 

"  Liberty  is  a  serious  game,  to  be  played  out,  as  the  Greek  told  the 
Persian,  with  knives  and  hatchets,  and  not  with  drawled  epigrams  and 
soft  petitions. 

"  We  may  prate  among  us  of  moral  courage  and  moral  force,  but  we 
have  also  physical  courage  and  physical  force  kept  for  ready  use.  Is 
this  so  with  the  Italians  of  Central  Italy  ?  That  they  wish  to  be  free  is 
nothing.  A  horse  or  a  sheep  or  a  canary-bird  has  j)robabIy  some  vague 
instinct  towards  a  state  of  freedom  ;  but  what  we  ask,  and  what  within 
the  last  few  days  we  have  asked  with  some  doubt,  is,  Are  these  Italians 
prepared  to  fight  for  the  freedom  they  have  ?  If  so,  well ;  they  will 
certainly  secure  it;  if  not,  let  Austria  flog  them  with  scorpions  instead 
of  whips,  and  we  in  England  sliall  only  stop  our  ears  against  their 
screams. 

"  The  highest  spectacle  which  the  world  can  ofier  to  a  freeman  is  to 
see  his  brother  man  contending  bravely — nay,  fighting  desperately — for 
his  libert}%  The  lowest  sentiment  of  contempt  which  a  freeman  can  feel 
is  that  excited  by  a  wretched  serf  who  has  been  polished  and  educated  to 
a  full  sense  of  the  degradation  of  his  position,  yet  is  without  the  man- 
hood to  do  more  than  utter  piteous  lamentations." 

Despite  these  favoring  circumstances,  the  Fenian  enrolment 
made  but  slow  progress  up  to  1861.  Its  conflict  with  the 
Catholic  sentiment  of  the  Irish  population  was  a  drawback 
which  counterbalanced  any  advantage  derived  from  the  teach- 
ings of  the  English  newspapers.  In  the  spring  of  that  year 
the  official  organ,  after  a  necessitous  existence,  disappeared; 
and  in  America,  as  in  Ireland,  the  fortunes  of  the  movement 
were  at  a  low  ebb.  In  April  the  American  civil  war  burst 
forth.  The  people,  North  and  South,  sprang  to  arms.  The 
Irish  were  foremost  in  "going  with  their  States."  An  Irish 
brigade  fought  on  each  side.     One  led  by  General  Pat  Cle- 


332  iV^-ETT  IRELAND. 

burne  distinguished  itself  under  the  Confederate  flag.  One 
commanded  by  General  T.  F.  ^Meagher  "svon  laurels  that  will 
not  fade  beneath  the  starry  banner  of  the  Union.  In  this 
rush  to  the  field  the  Fenian  circles  were  broken  up  and  aban- 
doned on  all  hands.  For  a  moment,  but  only  for  a  moment, 
it  appeared  as  if  the  American  war  would  extinguish  the 
movement.  A  new  and  a  stronger  impulse  soon  came  to 
press  it  on.  The  readiness  with  which  England  conceded 
belligerent  rights  to  the  seceding  States,  and  other  circum- 
stances, early  gave  rise  to  the  idea  that  a  rupture  between  the 
Washington  Government  and  the  Court  of  St.  James's  was 
inevitable.  This  impression  was  sedulously  encouraged  in  the 
Northern  States  and  in  Ireland  as  an  incentive  to  the  Irish  to 
j(jin  the  Federal  regiments.  It  had  a  powerful  eifect  in  each 
country.  All  the  way  from  Ireland  a  continuous  stream  of 
young,  active,  and  able-bodied  men  poured  into  the  Federal 
ranks.  The  story  was  almost  universally  believed  that  Mr. 
Seward  had  as  good  as  promised  certain  of  the  Irish  leaders 
that  when  the  Union  was  restored  America  would  settle  ac- 
counts with  John  Bull,  and  that  Ireland  would  be  gratefully 
repaid  for  her  aid  to  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  This  was  the 
crowning;  stroke  of  good  fortune  for  the  Fenian  leaders. 

Another  circumstance,  equally  advantageous,  meantime 
came  to  their  aid,  Terence  Bellew  McManus,  one  of  the 
"  Forty-eight"  leaders,  had  in  1851  effected  a  bold  and  daring 
escape  from  his  captivity  in  Van  Diemen's  Land,  and  soon 
after  settled  in  San  Francisco.  Early  in  1861  he  died  in  that 
city,  to  the  deep  sorrow  of  all  his  countrymen,  by  whom  he 
M-as  greatly  loved.  Some  one  suggested  that  the  body  of  the 
dead  rebel  should  be  disinterred  from  its  grave  in  foreign  soil 
and  be  borne  with  public  ceremonial  across  continent  and  ocean 
to  the  land  of  his  birth.  The  proposition  was  enthusiastically 
embraced.  The  incident  was  so  dramatic,  and  touched  such 
deep  emotions,  that  the  proceeding  assumed  a  magnitude  and 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  333 

a  solemnity  which  astonished  and  startled  every  one.  The 
Irish  race  in  America  seemed  to  make  of  the  funeral  a  demon- 
stration of  devotion  to  the  old  land.  The  Irish  at  home  were 
seized  with  like  feelings,  and  on  all  sides  prepared  to  give  a 
suitable  reception  to  the  remains  of  him  who,  proscribed  in 
life,  might  return  only  in  death  to  the  land  he  loved.  It  was 
a  proceeding  which  appealed  powerfully  to  the  sympathies  of 
the  people;  and  Nationalists  of  all  hues  and  sections  mingled 
in  the  homage  to  patriotism  which  it  was  understood  to 
convey. 

It  was  only  when  the  "  funeral"  preparations  had  been 
somewhat  advanced,  a  whisper  went  round  that  the  affair 
was  altogether  in  the  hands  of  the  Fenian  leaders,  and  was 
being  used  to  advance  their  projects.  This  put  non-Fenian 
Nationalists  in  a  difficulty  which  their  opponents  heartily  en- 
joyed. To  draw  back  and  hold  aloof  was  a  course  which 
could  be  explained  only  by  making  assertions  of  the  most 
serious  and  perilous  nature,  proof  of  which  few  men  would 
care  to  adduce.  To  go  on  was  to  swell  the  tide  that  might 
perhaps  sweep  Ireland  into  a  civil  war.  Indeed,  at  one  time 
the  purpose  was  seriously  entertained  of  making  the  MacManus 
demonstration  the  signal  for  insurrection.  The  idea  was  ve- 
hemently and  successfully  combated  by  INIr.  Stephens,  on  the 
ground  that  his  preparations  had  been  only  begun ;  and  he 
would  not  strike  till  he  was  ready.  It  required  the  utmost 
exertion  of  his  authority  to  enforce  this  veto;  and  it  was  only 
after  hot  controversy  the  contemplated  rising  on  that  occasion 
was  given  up.  The  funeral,  along  the  whole  route  from  San 
Francisco  to  Dublin,  was  one  of  the  most  impressive  demon- 
strations of  the  kind  ever  seen.  Every  considerable  city  in 
the  States  sent  a  delegation  to  attend  it.  On  the  30th  of 
October,  1867,  the  body  arrived  at  Queenstown,  and  in  the 
interval  between  that  date  and  the  interment  in  Glasnevin 
cemetery,  Dublin,  on  Sunday  the  10th  of  November,  the 


334  -^^^TT  IRELAND. 

island  was  in  a  state  of  anxiety  and  excitement.  The  Most 
Eev.  Dr.  Cullen,  Catholic  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  aware  of 
what  underlay  the  proceedings,  refused  to  permit  any  lying  in 
state  or  other  public  ceremonial  in  the  churches  of  his  diocese, 
— a  decision  which  drew  down  upon  him  the  wildest  denunci- 
ations. With  great  cleverness  the  revolutionary  leaders  called 
any  opposition  to  their  arrangements  '^  enmity  to  the  dead," 
"hostility  to  love  of  country."  Five  years  afterwards,  when 
the  Fenian  chiefs  themselves  avowed  that  the  funeral  was  the 
expedient  whereby  they  really  established  their  movement  in 
Ireland,  the  conduct  of  the  archbishop  was  better  understood 
by  many  who  were  among  the  loudest  in  censuring  him  at 
the  time.  Some  of  the  Fenian  authorities  have  estimated 
that  a  larger  number  of  adherents  were  sworn  in  during  the 
three  weeks  of  the  MacManus  obsequies  than  during  the  pre- 
vious two  years.  The  funeral  procession  through  the  streets 
of  Dublin  was  a  great  display.  Fifty  thousand  men  marched 
after  the  hearse.  At  least  as  many  more  lined  the  streets 
and  sympnthizingly  looked  on. 

That  day  gave  the  Fenian  chiefs  a  command  of  Ireland 
which  they  had  never  been  able  to  obtain  before.  In  the 
continuous  struggle  which  went  on  between  them  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  Catholic  clergy  and  non-Fenian  Nationalists  on 
the  other,  they  thenceforth  assumed  a  boldness  of  language 
and  action  never  previously  attempted.  The  American  dele- 
gates who  had  accompanied  the  remains  of  MacManus  to 
Ireland  returned  with  news  that  the  home  organization  was 
of  real  extent  and  strength,  and  needed  only  the  aid  which 
America  could  supply,  namely,  money  and  arms  and  officers, 
to  effect  at  almost  any  moment  the  total  overthrow  of  British 
power  in  Ireland.  Upon  these  reports  the  movement  in 
America  very  shortly  assumed  an  entirely  new  character, 
and  eventually  grew  to  enormous  dimensions.  Men  who 
had   hitherto   held   aloof — men  of  position,  character,  and 


THE  FENIAN  MOVEMENT.  335 

ability — entered  earnestly  into  the  work  of  preparation. 
Money  was  poured  into  the  coffers  of  the  organization. 
The  conviction  spread  that  the  hour  was  at  hand  when 
Ireland  would  "  burst  long  ages'  thrall ;"  and  even  the  poor- 
est of  her  sons  and  daugiiters  pressed  eagerly  forward  with 
their  contributions.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  that  an 
insurrection  in  Ireland  which  could  maintain  itself  in  any- 
thing like  respectable  force  for  even  a  month  would  command 
millions  of  dollars  and  thousands  of  helping  hands  from  the 
Irish  in  America.  This  was  abundantly  exemplified  by  the 
manner  in  which  the  news  of  the  Irish  Fenian  arrests  later 
on  (in  1865)  was  received  by  them.  The  Fenian  officers 
were  besieged  witli  sympathizers.  Fathers  and  mothers 
brought  their  sons  to  be  enrolled  ;  servant-girls  brouy-ht  the 
savings  of  their  wages ;  Californian  miners  gave  freely  of  their 
hoards.  Old  men  who  had  seen  the  roof-tree  levelled  at 
home,  young  men  who  had  heard  the  story  of  the  eviction 
from  parents  now  no  more,  clamorously  asked  to  be  put 
"first  on  the  roll"  for  call  to  action.  The  famine-clearances 
had  sown  "  dragons'  teeth"  from  the  Hudson  to  the  Missis- 
sippi. 


CHAPTER    XXL 

A  TROUBLED   TIME. 

The  men  who  led,  or  most  largely  influenced,  Irish  na- 
tional politics  from  1860  to  1865,  were  William  Smith 
O'Brien,  John  Martin,  and  The  O'Donoghue.  The  first- 
named  did  not,  indeed,  take  any  very  active  part  by  personal 
presence  in  public  affairs;  but  he  was  recognized  and  referred 
to  as  the  chief  of  the  National  party.  His  counsel  was  always 
sought;  and  through  public  letters  issued  from  time  to  time 
in  the  Nation,  he  exercised  a  considerable  influence  on  pass- 
ing events.  Mr.  Martin  had  returned  to  Ireland  in  1858. 
For  a  year  or  two  he  lived  in  great  retirement  at  Kilbroney, 
near  Rostrevor,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  his  native 
Ulster ;  but  he  could  not  long  resist  the  pressure  brought  to 
bear  on  him  to  give  his  voice  and  influence  once  more  to  the 
service  of  the  National  cause.  It  was  not,  however,  until 
early  in  1864,  when,  in  conjunction  with  The  O'Donoghue, 
he  establisiied  a  Repeal  society,  called  the^National  Lea^ie, 
that  he  may  be  said  to  have  resumed^'active  public  life. 

Two  men  of  equal  prominence,  and  in  many  respects  of 
greater  ability,  re-entered  the  arena  later  on, — John  B.  Dillon 
and  George  Henry  Moore.  The  latter,  on  the  death  of  Lucas 
and  the  departure  of  Gavan  Duffy,  in  1855,  took  the  com- 
mand of  the  shattered  ranks  of  the  Tenant  League  party; 

and  assuredly 

"si  Pcrgama  dextra 
Defendi  possent,  etiiim  hac  defensa  fuissent ;" 

— if  genius,  courage,  and  devotion  could  have  repaired  what 
perfidy  had  destroyed,  that  gifted  son  of  Mayo  had  retrieved 
336 


*  A   TROUBLED   TIME.  337 

all.  He  was  unseated  on  his  re-election  in  1857, — being  held 
to  account  for  alleged  spiritual  "  intimidation," — and,  refusing 
several  offers  of  other  constituencies,  watched  silently  and 
sadly  the  coarse  of  public  affairs  up  to  1868. 

The  leading  figure  on  Irish  platforms  from  1858  to  1868 
was  The  O'Donoghue,  then  member  of  Parliament  for  Tip- 
perary  County.  Throughout  the  greater  part  oTtFose  ten  years 
he  was  the  most  popular  man  in  Ireland.  Many  considera- 
tions combined  to  giv^e  him  the  position  to  which  he  thus 
attained.  His  ancient  family,  his  kinship  with  O'Connell, 
his  spendid  physique,  his  easy  manners,  his  generous  nature, 
his  eloquence,  his  patriotism, — all  marked  him  out  as  a  popu- 
lar favorite.  His  title  of  Celtic  chieftainship  had  come  down 
to  him  through  a  proud  ancestry  of  at  least  four  hundred 
years.  He  was  young,  dashing,  courageous,  ready  to  do  and 
dare  for  Ireland.  His  first  appearance  in  public  life  was  as 
candidate  for  Tipperary,  under  the  auspices  of  George  Henry 
Moore,  in  1857, — on  the  expulsion  of  Mr.  James  Sadleir.* 
The  young  chieftain  carried  all  before  him,  and  went  at  a 
bound  into  the  forefront  of  national  politics.  He  and  I  were 
naturally  thrown  much  together.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
that  period  we  fought  side  by  side.  On  almost  every  public 
question  our  opinions  were  identical.  We  took  very  nearly 
the  same  view  of  the  Fenian  project,  and  alike  incurred  the 
animosity  of  its  leaders, — he,  however,  much  less  than  I  did. 
Once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  the  war  between  the  Fenian 
and  non-Fenian  Nationalists  I  trembled  for  him.  I  knew 
the  secret  chiefs,  with  one  exception,  were  most  anxious  to  get 
hold  of  him,  and  that  tempting  offers  had  been  made  to  him. 
I  have  reason  to  think  Mr.  Stephens  did  not  greatly  care  to 

*  Shortly  after  the  suicide  of  John  Sadleir  (the  banker  and  Brigade 
leader),  it  was  discovered  that  his  brother  James  was  criminally  impli- 
cated in  frauds  on  the  Tipperary  Bank.     He  fled  the  country,  and  was 
expelled  Parliament  by  a  special  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
■w  29 


338  -^^^f^  IRELAND. 

convert  The  O'Donoghue.  He  disliked  so  dangerous  a  rival 
near  his  throne.  Fortunately,  though  the  young  chieftain 
hurled  strong  hate  against  the  English  power,  nothing  could 
dispel  his  objections  to  a  scheme  which  he,  on  the  whole, 
agreed  with  me  in  believing  might  bathe  Ireland  in  blood, 
—  might  display,  indeed,  the  self-sacrifice  and  heroism  of 
her  sons,  but  could  only  rivet  her  chains  and  multiply  her 
sufferings. 

In  the  summer  of  1863  Mr.  Stephens  decided  upon  starting 
a  weekly  journal  in  Dublin  which  should  at  once  advocate 
the  special  views  of  the  Fenian  organization  and  increase  its 
financial  revenues.  In  November  of  that  year  he  carried  out 
this  purpose  by  starting  the  Irish  People  newspaper.  It  seems 
never  to  have  occurred  to  him  that  there  were  two  serious 
dangers  in  this  singular  proceeding.  It  was  almost  certain  to 
concentrate  under  the  eye  and  the  hand  of  the  Government 
all  that  was  active  and  dangerous  in  his  organization ;  and  as 
to  finances,  the  chances  of  loss  rather  than  gain  were  con- 
siderable. As  a  matter  of  fact,  both  those  dangers  befell  the 
enterprise.  Although  behind  the  Irish  People  were  an  army 
of  active  and  zealous  organizers  and  agents,  and  though  all 
the  resources  of  the  organization  were  exerted  to  push  it,  that 
journal  was  a  heavy  drag  on  his  resources,  not  an  aid  to  them. 
Its  existence  enabled  us  in  the  Nation  office — as^no  doubt,  it 
enabled  tlipfrnyprrLpipnt  n]so — to  ascertain  substantially  wliere 
Fenian  and  non-Fenian  Nationalism  prevailed.  It  SAA'ept  all 
before  it  among  the  Irish  in  EnglaiiTTand  Scotland,  almost 
annihilating  the  circulation  of  the  Xafion  in  many  places 
north  and  south  of  the  Tweed.  On  the  other  hand,  in  Ire- 
land it  was  never  able  to  approach  our  journals  in  circulation  ; 
and  in  many  places  we  drove  it  totally  from  the  field.  With 
what  seems__utter  fatuity,  INIr.  Stephens  placed  u])on  the  staff 
of  his  journal,  pdBTTShed  within  a  stone's  throw  of  Dublin 
Castle  gate,  the  foremost  men  of  the  Fenian  organization. 


A    TROUBLED    TIME.  339 

John  O'Learj^Charles  J.  Kickham,  and  T.  C.  Liiby  were 
the  editors ;  O'Donovan  Rossa^was  appointe^~5iisiness  man- 
ager ;  James  O'Connor  was  cashier.  The  office  was,  in  fact, 
headquarters. 

The  establishment  of  the  National  League  by  Mr.  Martin 
and  The  O'Donoghue,  as  an  open  and  non-Fenian  National 
organization,  appealing  to  public  opinion,  gave  great  offence 
to  the  Fenian  leader.  Fenians  attended  at  its  meetings  and 
sought  to  disturb  or  compromise  the  proceedings  by  cries  for 
"a  war  policy,"  "  rifles  are  what  we  \vantiil_and  so  on.  It 
was  naturally  expected  that,  steadily  assailed  in  this  way,  the 
League  must  give  up.  But  John  Martin  intimated  that  he 
knew  these  tactics  and  those  who  were  practising  them.  He 
told  the  Fenians  to  go  their  road,  he  would  go  his,  and  would 
not  be  hindered  by  them.  With  much  struggle  he  held  his 
ground  through  all  the  troubles  and  terrors  of  1865,  and  a 
good  part  of  the  following  year.  In  August,  1866,  the  then 
leaders  of  the  Fenian  operations,  failing  in  putting  down  the 
League  meetings  by  interruptions,  groans,  and  cries,  gave  the 
■word  for  more  violent  measures.  A  body  of  Fenians  one 
evening  poured  into  the  League  Hall,  and,  on  being  rebuked 
by  Mr.  Martin  for  their  conduct,  assailed  him  with  volleys 
of  eggs  and  other  missiles,  dispersing  the  assemblage  in  great 
disorder.  A  still  more  violent,  though  not  nearly  so  disgrace- 
ful, exploit  had  two  years  previously  marked  the  culmination 
of  their  hostility  towards_r»yself. 

In  February,  1864,  the  committee  of  the  Dublin  Prince 
Albert  Statue  applied  to  the  corporation  for  an  allocation  of 
College  Green  as  a  site  for  their  memorial.  It  was  well 
known  that  College  Green  had  long,  by  a  sort  of  national 
tradition,  been  marked  out  and  reserved  as  the  spot  whereon 
a  statue  to  Henry  Grattaii  should  stand, — as  stand  it  does 
there  now.  A  determined,  but  for  the  time  an  ineffectual, 
opposition  was  offered  in  the  corporation  to  this  "alienation 


340  ^^^^^  IRELAND. 

of  Grattan's  site,"  as  it  was  called.  In  this  resistance  I  took  a 
leading  part,  having  been  elected  a  member  of  the  municipal 
council  two  years  previously.  We  pleaded,  argued,  pro- 
tested, threatened.  AVe  offered  any  other  spot  in  all  the  city 
but  this  for  the  prince's  statue.  A  majority  of  the  council 
considered  it  would  be  "  disloyal"  to  refuse  any  site  asked  for 
in  the  name  of  Prince  Albert,  and,  Grattan's  claims  not- 
withstanding, granted  the  application.  A  cry  of  indignation 
arose  all  over  Ireland.  A  public  meeting  was  convened  in 
the  great  hall  of  the  Rotunda,  Dublin,  to  give  voice  to  the 
general  feeling,  and  to  call  for  the  rescinding  of  the  obnox- 
ious vote.  For  two  reasons  the  "  C.  O.  I.  R."  decided  to 
break  up  this  demonstration.  First,  Henry  Grattan  was  the 
representative  man  and  founder,  so  to  speak,  of  the  constitu- 
tional Xational  party, — a  public  character  not  to  be  held  up 
to  admiration  by  a  people  arming  to  establish  an  Irish  re- 
public. Secondly,  at  this  meeting  A.  M.  Sullivan  and  men 
of  that  stamp  would  be  applauded,  which  was  not  to  be 
allowed.  Secret  orders  were  issued  to  all  circles  and  sub- 
circles  in  Dublin  to  have  their  men  in  full  force  at  the 
Rotunda  on  the  evening  of  the  meeting. 

The  O'Donoghue  came  up  from  Killarney  to  preside;  the 
platform  was  thronged  with  civic  representatives  and  city 
men ;  the  galleries  and  body  of  the  hall  were  densely  packed. 
The  O'Donoghue  was  proceeding  with  his  opening  address, 
and  came  to  some  complimentary  allusions  to  me. 

"  We  won't  have  Sullivan  !"  fiercely  shouted  a  voice  in  a 
particular  corner  of  the  hall. 

"  That  voice  does  not  express  the  sentiments  of  the  Irish 
people,"  replied  the  chairman. 

Yells  drowned  his  further  observations.  "Down  with  Sul- 
livan !"  "  Away  with  Sullivan  !"  rose  in  frantic  shouts  from 
compact  sections  of  the  audience  immediately  in  front  of  the 
platform.     The  bulk  of  the  assemblage  looked  on  utterly  be- 


A    TROUBLED    TIME.  34I 

wildered.  They  could  scarcely  credit  their  senses,  and  vainly 
gnessed  at  explanations. 

"  Down  with  Sullivan  !  We'll  have  his  life  !"  Suddenly, 
at  a  preconcerted  signal,  a  rush  was  made  for  the  platform ; 
sticks  appeared  as  if  pulled  from  beneath  men's  waistcoats, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  a  confused  struggle  was  going  on. 
O'Donovan  Rossa  and  other  of  the  Fenian  organizers  now 
showed  themselves,  and,  heading  a  charge  of  their  followers, 
scrambled  over  the  barriers,  striking  at  ^11  who  obstructed 
them.  If  the  people  could  only  have  got  a  clue  to  the  in- 
comprehensible scene,  there  would  have  been  serious  work, 
for  the  attack  would  have  been  resisted ;  but,  as  few  clearly 
understood  the  proceeding,  no  one  felt  called  upon  to  make 
any  special  exertion.  As  an  indignant  artisan  afterwards 
complained,  "  No  one  knew  who  was  who,  or.  why  A\^as\vhv." 

In  the  wild  uproar,  the  crash  of  chairs,  and  rush  of  shriek- 
ing people,  I  found  myself  roughly  grasped  by  an  unknown 
hand  in  the  crowd,  and  a  voice  shouted  in  my  ear,  "  You 
come  on  out  of  this,  instantly,  or  your  life  will  be  taken 
here  to-night."  I  was  forcibly  dragged  a  long  way  towards 
the  entrance.  Though  kindly  meant,  I  could  not  bring  my- 
self to  acquiesce  in  this.  I  tore  myself  clear  of  my  unknown 
protector,  determined,  whatever  might  befall,  that  I  Mould 
walk  freely  out  of  the  building.  I  found  The  O'Donoghue 
anxiously  looking  fpr_  .ina4_andweemerged  together  into 
the  street.  A  friendly  body-guard,  however,  accompanied 
us  to  the  hotel,  composed  in  great  part,  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve, of  Fenians  who  knew  of  the  violence  designed  against 
us,  and  who  were  determined  to  prevent  it. 

Meanwhile  Ro^sa  and  *^''°  ^torming-partv  had  full  posses- 
sion of  the  platform.  They  smashed  the  chairs  and  the  re- 
porters' table,  tore  the  gas-brackets  down,  waved  the  green 
baize  cover  of  the  table  as  a  flag  of  victory,  and  shouted  for 
half  an  hour  over  their  success.     Then  they  marched  down 

29* 


342  ^^^^  IRELASD. 

Sackville  Street  and  dispersed, — some  to  ^Ir.  Stephens's 
lodgings  to  felicitate  hina,  as  proudIv_asJf_tliay-  liad  raptured 
Dublin  Castle,  pulled_down  the  Union  Jack,  and  taken  the 
Lord-LipiitPTinnt,  pj-json er . 

Xext  day  the  explanation  of  the  scene  became  known,  and 
there  was  great  anger  at  this  attempt  of  the  Fenian  author- 
ities to  suppress  tlie  right  of  public  meeting.  It  was  the 
flinging  down  of  a  daring  challenge  to  the  non-Fenian  Na- 
tionalists. If  this  stroke  succeeded,  there  Mas  no  platform 
left  to  them.  A  "Citizens'  Committee"  assembled,  and  it 
was  resolved  to  hold  on  the  following  Monday  a  meeting  in 
the  same  hall  of  the  Rotunda,  to  pass  the  resolutions  origi- 
nally contemplated, — precautions  being  tal<en  to  encounter 
the  Fenian  tactics,  and,  if  necessary,  meet  force  by  force. 

But  how  was  this  to  be  done?  How  was  it  feasible  to 
assemble  a  thousand,  or  two  thousand,  jjeople  and  not  know 
but  they  were  secretly  members  of  the  Fenian  organization  ? 
How  could  we  tell  but  even  on  the  Citizens'  Committee  there 
were  men  whose  part  it  was  to  pretend  sympathy  with  us, 
but  in  reality  to  undermine  all  our  plans  and  arrangements? 
"  It  cannot  possibly  he  done,"  said  some  of  our  wisest  friends. 
Moreover,  the  city  was  filled  with  the  most  alarming  stories 
and  rumors:  the  Fenian  leadei^  had  ordered  a  thousand  of 
their  men  to  come  to  the  next  meeting  armed  with  revolvers; 
Air.  Stephens  had  sworn  --tlutt,  whatcN'er  it  might  cost,  he 
'would  render  meeting,  speech,  or  resolution  absolutely  im- 
possible that  day  :  no,  not  even  a  dozen  men  should  be  able 
to  assemble!  Affrighted  friends  came  to  us  and  implored 
that  the  meeting  might  be  given  up.  "These  are  desperate 
men  ;  it  will  not  do  to  cross  them.  There  Avill  be  bloodshed 
and  loss  of  life.  Better  give  up !"  I,  on  the  other  hand, 
called  on  all  friends  of  public  liberty  to  be  firm  and  to  face 
every  peril.  "  We  complaiiL.of  English  tyranny,"  I  said, 
"  and  our  fathers  have  given  their^TTv^-i^sting  it.     Here 


A    TROUBLED    TIME.  343 

is  a  much  more  odious  tyranny.  I  am  the  one  most  loudly 
threatened.  I  know  it.  I  am  determined  to  go  on,  and  if 
any  harm  befall  me,  I  shall  at  all  events  be  struck  down  in 
defence  of  public  freedom."  I  was  rejoiced  to  find  this  spirit 
prevailing  extensively.  The  intolerance  and  violent  despot- 
ism of  the  Fenian  mandate  against  public  meetings  rendered 
the  secret  ciiiefs  quite  unj)opular ;  and  at  any  fairly -assembled 
]>ublic  gathering  representative  of  general  opinion  they  would 
have  been  indignantly  condemned. 

It  was  resolved  to  hold  the  meeting  in  the  early  afternoon 
(as  night  would  give  great  advantage  to  disorder  or  attack), 
and  that  admission  should  be  by  tickets  consecutively  num- 
bered. I  felt  it  was  a  trial  of  strength  and  skill  between  Mr. 
Stephens  and  myself,  and  I  determined  he  should  find  me 
able  to  hold  my  own.  "  Foolish  man  !"  exclaimed  an  excited 
friend,  a  day  or  two  before  the  meeting,  "you  were  warned 
how  vain  and  hopeless  it  would  be  contending  with  a  secret 
society  !  Here  they  are  secretly  at  work  printing  off  for  their 
men  tickets  identical  with  your  own ;  and  on  the  day  of 
meeting  it  is  with  foes,  not  friends,  your  hall  will  be  filled !" 

I  pretended  to  be  dumfoundered.  But  this  was  just  what 
I  expected.  I  had  laid  a  trap  for  the  Fenian  chief,  and  he 
walked  right  into  it. 

A  register  was  duly  kept  of  every  person  to  whom  packets 
of  cards  had  been  issued  for  distribution  ;  and  each  distrib- 
uter was  made  responsible  for  personal  knowledge  of  the 
name  and  address  of  every  citizen  to  whom  he  gave  a  ticket. 
Each  member  of  the  Citizens'  Committee,  about  forty  gentle- 
men in  all,  received,  on  these  conditions,  four  or  five  packets 
of  tickets.  I  guessed  that  on  our  conimittee  were  agents  of 
the  enemy,  and  that  not  onlx_would  our  every  move  be  re- 
ported, but  that  our  tickets  would  be  forged.  I  knew  a 
friend,  a  lithographer,  whom  I  could  implicitly  trust,  and 
unknown  to  everybody  I  employed  him  to  print,  by  a  tedious 


344  ^^^J^  IRELAND. 

process,  that  could  uot  be  readily  imitated,  two  thousand 
tickets.  When  I  had  everything  ready,  the  day  before  our 
meeting  I  assembled  the  Citizens'  Committee.  "  Gentlemen, 
our  tickets  are  being  forged,"  I  exclaimed.  "Yes,  yes;  'tis 
a  fact,"  shouted  many  voices.  "  What  a  shame !  AVhat  are 
we  to  do?"  said  some  of  Mr.  Stephens's  secret  agents,  in  -well- 
feigned  surprise :  "  we  can't  hold  the  meeting ;  we  must  give 
it  up." 

"  !No,  gentlemen,  we  will  not  give  it  up,"  I  said.  "Each 
one  of  us,  if  he  has  actal  faithfully  and  loyally,  knows  to 
whom  he  has  given  tickets." 

"  Quite  right ;  to  be  sure." 

"Very  well.  All  such  tickets  are  now  cancelled,  and  will 
be  refused  at  the  doors  to-morrow.  Here  are  tickets  which 
each  of  you  M'ill  this  evening  exchange  with  the  parties 
rightly  entitled  to  them." 

A  roar  of  delight  broke  from  the  meeting.  Two  or  three 
of  our  friends  certainly  looked  chop-fallen,  despite  efforts  to 
seem  as  cheerful  as  the  rest. 

Whether  merely  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to  frighten  me, 
or  with  serious  meaning,  'tis  hard  to  tell;  but  private  mes- 
sages were  now  sent  to  my  family  warning  them  in  the  most 
solemn  and  explicit  manner  that  this  daring  conduct  on  my 
part  was  going  to  have  a  sad  result.  They  were  told  I  was 
to  be  shot,  j)our  encourager  aux  autres.  I  said,  "  Even  so :  I 
had  rather  be  shot  than  be  a  coward  or  a  slave." 

Next  day  the  city  was  troubled,  nervous,  and  excited,  as  if 
an  earthquake  had  been  foretold  in  the  almanacs.  The  Ro- 
tunda presented  a  strange  sight.  It  was  like  a  fortress,  for 
possession  of  which  a  fierce  battle  wastorage.  That  my  life 
would  pay  the  forfeit  was  concluded  on  all  hands ;  and  even 
from  distant  parts  of  Ireland  anxious  friends  came,  armed,  to 
stand  by  my  side.  One  of  these,  the  impersonation  of  devoted 
friendship,  Mr.  Thomas  P.  O'Connor,  of  Tipperary,  was  a 


A    TROUBLED    TIME.  345 

man  to  whom  the  Fenian  leaders  owed  much.  To  his  influ- 
ence, his  exertions,  his  generosity,  they  subsequently  owed 
still  more,  when,  in  adversity,  they  needed  protection  and  aid. 
Though  happily  he  lives  still,  on  the  night  preceding  that 
meeting  he  and  many  others  approached  the  sacraments  of 
religion  in  preparation  for  death  next  day.  It  seems  almost 
absurd  now  to  think  they  regarded  matters  so  seriously.  My 
own  family  took  leave  of  me  as  if  they  might  see  me  no 
more;  but  they  could  not  shake  my  purpose. 

A  body  of  "  National  Volunteers"  had  oiFered  themselves 
to  act  as  guards  and  stewards  at  the  meeting,  and  after  care- 
ful selection  two  hundred  were  enrolled.  At  each  door  a 
"  company"  was  placed  under  a  trusted  "  captain."  When, 
at  one  o'clock,  the  doors  were  opened,  there  poured  into  the 
great  hall,  amidst  much  cheering,  a  body  of  citizens  who  evi- 
dently greatly  regretted  any  conflict  with  their  fellow-country- 
men, but  who  were  determined  to  assert  the  right  to  assemble 
in  public  meeting  for  lawful  and  patriotic  purposes. 

Soon  a  cry  of  "  forged  ticket"  was  heard  at  the  doors. 
The  wrong  nxen  werc-beginning  to  come  up,  and  found  they 
could  not  pass  through^^^About^  two  o'clock  quite  a  battalion 
arrived,  headed"15y  O^onovan  Rossa.  He  handed  a  wrong 
ticket.  "  No  use,"  said  young  Joseph  Hairiy  of  Ardavon,  a 
model  of  athletic  strength  and  vigor,  who  was  captain  at  that 
door.  "  I  must  pass,"  said  Ro^^sa,  who  was  also  strongly 
built,  powerful,  active,  and  determine(h_"  Yo»i  will  not," 
was  defiantly  answered.  RossaThacTeadash  at  the  door,  and 
was  levelled  by  a  sledge-hammer  blow  from  Hanly.  Quick 
as  lightning  he  was  on  his  feet,  and  repaid  the  compliment. 
The  two  men  were  on  the  whole  pretty  evenly  matched ;  but 
the  advantage  in  "science'^  was  with  the  college-trained 
young  captain.  Rossa,  M^ia-was^as  bold  as  a  lion,  fought 
well,  but  it  was  no  use.  His  comrades  struck  in,  but  the 
door-guards  responded;  and  after  "as  lovely  a  fight,  sir,  as 


346  ^^^^^  IRELAND. 

ever  you  saw"  (according  to  one  of  the  latter),  the  Fenian 
party  withdrew.  Somewhat  similar  conflicts  occurred  at 
other  entrances ;  but  everywhere  the  assailants  were  defeated. 
The  meeting  was  triumphantly  held.  The  resolutions  were 
passed.  The  day  was  won.  Excusable  momentary  vexation 
apart,  I  doubt  if  the  Fenians  thought  the  worse  of  us  for  our 
resolution  and  pluck.  The  men  on  both  sides  exhibited  a 
restraint  as  to  the  use  of  fire-arms  which  astonished  every- 
body. Sharp  and  heavy  blows  were  given  and  taken,  and 
even  some  blood  was  spilt;  yet  though  each  man  of  some 
hundreds  carried  a  revolver  in  his  pocket,  not  one  was  drawn. 
Had  even  one  been  produced,  a  hundred  would  have  appeared, 
and  a  deplorable  scene  might  have  ensued.  We  all  rejoiced 
that  the  day  had  passed  off  so  well.  The  citizens  in  general,  I 
am  well  aware,  were  delighted.  All  public  action  in  politics 
would  have  been  stopped  by  a  violent  terrqrisrn"  had  we  not 
made  this  stand  for  tolerance,  fair  play,  and  freedom.* 

On  the  2d  of  April,  ISGSTthe  foil  of  RiclTraond  closed  the 
American  war.     On  the  7th  General  Lee  surrendered.     By 


*  The  Fenian  chief  did  not  all  at  onee  desist  from  the  desire  to  try 
conclusions  with  me,  as  the  subjoined  extract  from  the  letter  of  "An  Old 
Dublin  Centre"  (in  the  Irishvmn  of  the  Gth  of  February,  1875),  inveigh- 
ing  ai;ainst  3Ir.  Stephens,  reveals:  "  Once  I  heard  him  declare  that  he 
had  one  town  (Liverpool)  so  orgaruzed  and  devoted  to  the  local  leader 
that  he  could  at  any  time  cause  a  panic  in  European  politics  by  sending 
down  orders  to  capture  the  garrison  of  one  thousand  men  and  hold  the 
place  until  there  was  not  one  man  living  among  its  ruins  ;  and  said  he 
would  be  obeyed  to  the  letter.  The  truth  of  this  statement  will  be  seen 
when  some  time  afterwards  Sullivan  of  the  Nation  went  to  the  place  to 
lecture,  and  he  (Stephens)  sent  orders  to  hunt  him  out  of  the  town. 
"NVhat  then?  Only  two  or  three  could  be  found  to  do  the  business, 
and  they  were  expelled  the  lecture-hall  on  the  first  indication  of  dis- 
turbance." 

I  remember  the  incident-refecj-ed  to  very  well;  but  the  "Old  Centre" 
does  Mr.  Stephens  injustice  in  assuming  there  were  not  thousands  of 
Fenians  enrolled  jn  T^jve^pool  because  "only  two  or  three"  obeyed  an 
order  so  odious  and  unpopular. 


A    TROUBLED    TIME.  347 

June  the  Federal  armies  were  in  process  of  disbandment. 
The  Irish  regiments  were  free.  Hundreds  of  daring  and 
skilful  officers,  spoiled  for  peaceful  pursuits,  were  on  the 
lookout  for  a  sympathetic  cause  in  which  they  might  con- 
tinue their  career.  The  Fenian  leaders  felt  that  the  hour  for 
action  had  arrived.  Arms  were  being  daily  imported  and 
distributed,  although  not  tn  nnyfhlng  liko.  tiio-nictpnt.- pre- 
tended  by_^r.  Stephens.  Every  steamer  from  America 
brought  a  number  of  officers,  among  the  earliest  being  Briga- 
dier-General T.  F.  Milieu,  who  took  up  his  quarters  in  Dub- 
lin as  chief  in  command.  From  the  Continent  came  General 
Cluseret  and  General  Fariola,  the  former  of  whom  was  heard 
of  subsequently  m  tTie  struggle  of  the  Commune  in  Paris. 
Every  one  knew  what  was  at  hand,  for  there,  was  a  wondrous 

amount  of   pnK1ic''<^y  oKnnf    flm    co^.ro|-     mrvuamt^nfg  of   FcniaU- 

ism.  The  American  circles,  in  order  to  stimulate  subscrip- 
tions, published  addresses  announcing  all  that  was  afoot. 
One  issued  by  the  Springfield  circle  ^^  10  their  American 
fellow-citizens"  was  as  follows : 

"  Ireland  is  about  to  have  her  revolution.  The  day  of  provisional 
government  is  established.  ""Jth  army  ot^wo  hundred  thousand  men  is 
sworn  to  sustain  it.  OflBeers,  American  and  Irish,  who  have  served 
with  distinction  in  your  service,  are  silently  mo_v'int^  into  Ireland  to 
assume  control  of  the  active  operations  to  be  inaugurated  in  a  few 
months, — sooner,  much  sooner,  than  any  of  you  believe." 

In  August  the  Irish  newspapers  began  to  fill  with  alarmist 
letters  from  country  gentlemen ;  and  the  contingency  of  a 
midnight  rising  was  discussed  from  a  hundred  points  of  view. 
In  September  the  magistrates  of  Cork  County,  to  the  number 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty,  assembled  in  special  meeting  to 
consider  the  perilous  state  of  affairs.  They  memorialed  the 
Government  on  the  subject,  but  the  Government  had  already 
formed  its  decision.  It  is  not  easy  to  determine  the  stage  at 
Mdiich  a  secret  society  can  be  most  effectually  struck.      A 


348  ^'^^^  IRELAND. 

siugular  incident  showed  the  authorities  in  Dublin  Castle 
that  they  had  not  many  moments  to  lose.  On  the  machine- 
room  staff  of  the  Irish  People  was  a  man  named  Pierce  Nagle, 
a  great  favorite  and  rninfidential  agent  or  courier  of  Mr.  Ste- 
phens. For  more  than  a  year  Nagle_lmd_h£eii_in_the  secret 
pay  of  the  Govenim£utj  ajid  was  suj^plvino;  deadly  iuforma- 
tion  against  the  Fenian  chiefs.  One  day  an  envoy  arrived 
from  the  South  Tipperary  B's,  and  received  from  Mr.  Ste- 
pliens  a  despatch  of  the  utmx>^4-s£crecv  and  importance,  with 
which  he  was  to  return  instantlvtp  Clonmel.     The  missive 


he  bore  was  to  be  read  for  the  centres  there,  and  then  de- 
stroyed. The  enV'Oy  got  rather  overpowered  Avith  "  refresh- 
ment" in  the  afternoon,  and  went  to  sleep  on  a  bench  in  the 
machine-room.  Nagle,  coming  in,  saw  him,  and  rightly 
gue&sed  lie  was  likely  to  Jbave  received  some  important  letter 
from  "  the  Captain."  He  quietly  Turned  the  pockets  of  the 
sleeper  inside  out,  andtoolTtrnTTr-him  the  precious  document. 
Some  days  elapsed  before  he  was  able  to  find  an  opportunity 
for  safely-  handing  jj^over  to  the  police.  Once  in  their  pos- 
session, the  importance  of  that  missive  was  fully  recognized. 
Before  many  hours  it  was  in  the  council-chamber  of  Dublin 
Castle.  A  glance  at  its  contents  showed  Lord  AVodehouse 
that  he  must  strike  quickly  and  strike  hard.     Which  he  did. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE   RICHMOXD   ESCAPE. 

"  Hurry  in  to  town.  Quick  ! — quick  !  There  is  desper- 
ate work.  The  Irish  People  is  suppressed  ;  the  office  is  seized  ; 
Lubj,  O'Leary,  and  Rossa  are  arrested  ;  telegraphic  commu- 
nication with  the  South  is  stopped  ;  no  one  knows  what  may 
not  be  going  on  !"  It  was  my_l)roiIier  w^ho  spoke  at  my  bed- 
room door  early  in  the  morning  of  Saturday,  16th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1865.  He  had  driven  from  town  to  where  I  lived, 
some  three  miles  distant  in  the  northern  suburbs,  to  bear  me 
news  of  truly  startling  events  that  had  just  occurred. 

"  Luby,  O'Leary,  and  Rossa  arrested !"  I  exclaimed.  "  Have 
they  got  StepJiens-2^^ —  --—-__ 

"  Ko  ;  not  up  to  the  time  I  left." 

"  Then  depend  upon  it  he  will  fight.  We  shall  have  bar- 
ricades in  the  city  to-night." 

I  breakfasted  hastily,  my  brother  going  on  with  his  narra- 
tive of  the  proceedings.  I  concealed  my  feelings  as  best  I 
could  ;  but  I  took  a  very  serious  view  of  the  situation.  From 
information  which  had  reached  me  during  the  previous  month 
or  two,  I  knew  that  this  coup  did  not_anticipate  by  more  than 
a  few  weeks  the  date  fixed  by  the  Fenian  leaders  for  the  out- 
break of  hostilities.  I  judged~tliat  tlie  difference  in  time 
being  so  small,  Mr.  Stephens  would  rather  accept  battle  now 
than  let  his  men  be  struck  down  in  detail.  Moreover,  this 
move  of  the  Government  was  so  obvious,  so  inevitable,  that 
he  must  have  been  prepared  for  it  from  the  first  hour  when 
he  publicly  established  a  central  bureau  of  Fenian  affairs  at 
the  very  threshold  of  the  Castle  and  filled  it  with  the  best  and 

30  849 


350  iV^^TF  IRELAND. 

most  prominent  men  of  his  organization.  I  drove  into  town, 
and  found  excitement  and  alarm  on  all  sides.  It  was  only 
after  a  considerable  interval  I  was  able  to  gather  anything  like 
a  correct  and  coherent  account  of  what  had  occurred,  so  wild 
and  contradictory  were  the  stories  in  circulation. 

On  the  previous  day,  Friday,  15th  of  September,  1865,  a 
privy  council  was  hastily  held  at  Dublin  Castle.  Before  it 
were  laid  reports  from  the  police  authorities  on  the  critical 
state  of  the  Fenian  business ;  the  steady  flow  of  American 
officers  into  the  country ;  the  increased  activ^ity  in  the  prov- 
inces ;  the  arrival  of  large  remittancesof  money  to  the  Fenian 
leaders;  the  extensive  dxUling_g;oingon  all  over  the  king- 
dom, particularly  in  Dublin.  But,  most  important  of  all, 
the  following  letter,  in  the  handwriting  of  the  supreme  chief 
of  the  movement,  was  placed  upon  the  table : 

, ,  „  "  Dublin,  September  8, 1865. 

"  Broth KRS, 

"  I  regret  to  find  the  letter  I  addressed  to  you  has  never  reached  you. 
Had  you  received  it  I  am  confident  all  would  have  been  right  before 
this;  because  I  told  you  explicitly  what  to  do,  and  once  you  saw  your 
way  it  is  sure  to  me  that  you  would  have  done  it  well.  As  far  as  I  can 
understand  your  actual  position  and  wishes  now,  the  best  course  to  take 
is  to  get  all  the  working  B's  together,  and  after  due  deliberation  and 
without  favor  to  any  one — acting  purely  and  conscientiously  for  the  good 
of  the  cause — to  select  one  man  to  represent  and  direct  you  all.  This 
selection  made,  the  man  of  your  choice  should  come  up  here  at  once, 
when  he  shall  get  instructions  and  authority  to  go  on  with  the  good 
work.  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost.  This  year — and  let  there  be  no  mis- 
take about  it — must  be  the  year  of  action.  I  speak  with  a  knowledge 
and  authorit}'  to  which  no  other  man  could  pretend ;  and  I  repeat,  the 
flag  of  Ireland — of  the  Irish  Republic — must  this  year  be  raised.  As  I 
am  much  pressed  for  time,  i  shall  merely  add  that  it  shall  be  raised  in 
a  glow  of  hope  such  as  never  gleamed  round  it  before.  Be,  then,  of  firm 
faith  and  the  best  of  cheer,  for  all  goes  bravely  on.     Yours  fraternally, 

"J.  Power.* 

"  N.B.  This  letter  must  be  read  for  the  working  B's  only,  and  when 
read  must  be  burnt." 

*  One  of  Stephens's  innumerable  aliases. 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  351 

This  was  the  letter  wliich  Pierce  Nagle  had  taken  from  the 
pocket  of  the  intoxicated  Fenian  courier  as  he  lay  asleep  in 
the  /ris/i  People  office. 

The  Privy  Council  decided  that  the  conspiracy  must  be 
struck  instantly  and  simultaneously  all  over  the  island.  The 
Fenian  organ  was  to  be  seized  and  suppressed ;  the  leaders 
were  everywhere  to  be  arrested.  So  suddenly  was  this  reso- 
lution arrived  at  that  a  difficulty  arose  as  to  seizing  the 
newspaper.  Already  the  bulk  of  its  publication  for  that 
week  was  on  its  way  to  England  and  the  Irish  provinces. 
At  the  very  moment  the  Privy  Council  was  sitting,  the 
Irish  People  machinery  was  printing  off  the  "country 
edition,"  and  vans  were  bearing  the  agents'  parcels  to  the 
trains  and  steamboats.  Tiiere  was  no  lielp  for  this  now.  At 
three  o'clock  the  council  broke  up,  and  the  police  got  their 
orders  to  prepare  for  action.  Before  they  ventured  to  stir 
in  Dublin  they  telegraphed  to  all  the  "  dangerous"  cities  and 
towns,  notifying  the  authorities  in  those  places  that  at  ten 
o'clock  P.M.  a  simultaneous  dash  must  be  made  on  the  Fe- 
nians, and  that  all  necessary  precautions  must  accordingly  be 
taken.  About  nine  o'clock  the  manager  of  the  Magnetic 
Telegraph  Company  was  surprised  by  a  visit  from  a  Govern- 
ment official  with  an  astonishing  request.  He  said  that, 
owing  to  "  something  that  was  about  to  happen,"  the  Gov- 
ernment wished  all  telegrams  relating  to  Fenianism,  unless 
between  the  public  authorities,  to  be  "  withheld."  The  man- 
ager well  knew  what  was  meant.  There  was^jio  refusing  such 
a  polite  invitation.  The  requisite  assent  was  given.  Indeed, 
to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  a  policeman  in  plain  clothes 
was  stationed  in  the  tejegraph-office.  All  now  being  ready, 
at  half-past  nine  o'clock  several  bodies  of  police,  well  armed, 
were  quietly  moved  upon  Parliament  Street,  each  end  of 
which  they  occupied.  While  the  passers-by  were  wondering 
at  the  presence  of  this  police  cordon,  some  of  the  detective 


352  ^EW  IRELAND. 

force  knocked  at  the  door  of  Xo.  12,  which  was  the  Irish 
People  office.  No  one  opened,  whereupon  the  door  was 
forced.  With  a  rush  the  house  was  occupied,  and  ransacked. 
No  person  was  found  within.  The  office-books,  type-forms, 
and  bales  of  printed  papers  (the  "  town  edition"  of  the  Irish 
People)  were  brought  out  into  the  street,  piled  on  a  dray,  and 
carried  off  to  the  Castle, — a  guard  of  police  being  left  on  the 
premises.  Barely  half  an  hour  previously  the  Irish  People 
staff  had  left  the  office,  their  labors  for  the  day  being  over. 
Some  of  them  had  not  quitted  the  immediate  vicinity.  Soon 
the  street  rang  with  the  news ;  hearing  it,  they  rushed  out, 
and  were  seized.  At  the  same  moment,  other  ])arties  of  police 
were  at  M'ork  all  over  the  city.  The  residences  of  the  prom- 
inent Fenians  were  well  known,  and  before  many  hours 
O'Donovan  Rossa,  John  OTlohissy,  Thomas  Ashe^  Alichnel 
O'Neill  F""-nrtyi  ^rfV'ti"^or  Movnihan,  and  "NY.  F.  Roantree 
wpTP  Ifidgt-d  in  prison.  None  of  them  made  resistance.  It 
was  late  after  midnight  when  INIr.  Luby,  who  was  spending 
the  evening  with  a  friend,  returned  to  his  residence  at  Dol- 
phin's Barn.  He  did  not  know  that  two  detectives  had  lain 
concealed  for  hours  in  a  little  shrubbery  close  by,  waiting  for 
him.  He  had  barely  entered  his  house  when  they  knocked, 
gained  admittance,  and  arrested  him.  They  searched  for  pa- 
pers, and  found  several, — among  the  rest  some  letters  from  an 
extraordinary  genius  named  O'Keeffe,  w'cU  known  in  some  of 
the  Dul)lin  newspaper  offices  for  his  crazy  eccentricities.  He 
had  written  in  his  characteristic  style  to  Mr.  Luby,  urging 
the  revolutionary  leaders,  if  thoy  meant  business,  to  go  in  for 
a  battue  of  big  landlords  like  the  Duke-^CLenister.  To  any 
one  who  knew  the  man  the  le^er  would  be  an  amu^ng  lit- 
erary curiosity.  As  such  ]\Ir.  Luby  laughed  over  it  himself, 
and  showed  it  to  others  to  laugh  at  also.  Unfortunately  for 
him,  however,  he  did  not  destroy  O'Keeffe's  ferocious  pro- 
gramme.     It  was  a  dflngrprnns_dr>rMimpnf  for  a  jrian   engaged 


THE  RICHMOND   ESCAPE.  353 

in  political  conspiracy  to  preserve,  as  an  apparent  reality  and 
seriousness  of  meaning  might  be  cast  upon  its  contents  when 
found  among  the  class  of  papers  seized  in  the  course  of  these 
arrests.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  these  wretched  O'KeefTe  letters 
were  made  the  foundation  for  charges  against  the  Fenian  pris- 
oners, which  some  of  them  felt  more  keenly,  and  complained 
of  more  vehemently,  than  the  severest  tortures  of  prison-pun- 
ishment.* The  O'Keeife  manuscript,  however,  mischievous 
as  was  the  part  it  played  in  subsequent  events,  was  not  the 
most  fatal  discovery  made  on  that  occasion.  In  Mr.  Luby's 
desk  was  found  a  sealed  packet  addressed  "  Miss  Fraser." 
"  What  is  this  ?"  said  the  officer,  putting  it  on  the  table 
before  Mr.  Luby.  For  a  second  his  lip  trembled  and  his 
color  changed ;  but,  suddenly  recovering  himself,  he  replied 
in  a  careless  manner,  "  Oh,  this  is  something  between  the 
ladies ;"  and  he  pushed  it  across  to  his  wife.  Before  she 
could  stir,  thcv^officer  seized  it.  That  sealed  envelope  con- 
tained the  most  conclusive  testimony  which,  from  the  first 
hour  to  the  last,  the  Government  obtained  upon  which   to 


*  Nothing  wounded  the  Fenian  leaders  more  than  the  horrible  sug- 
gestion that  they  contemplated  "  a  general  massacre  and  universal  pil- 
lage." Taking  tViP  O'KppffeJetters  as  their  authority,  the  Castle  officials 
who  prepared^he  brief  or  statement  of  evidence  on  which  the  Crown 
counsel  was  to  act  at  tlie  preliminary  IrmjisligaliiHis  broadly  set  forth  this 
revolting  and  cruel  assertion.  The  prisoners  have  never  forgiven  that 
imputation.  They  concentrated  all,  or  nearly  all,  their  anger  on  the 
hapless  gentleman  who  was  Crown  counsel  on  the  occasion  referred  to, 
Mr.  C.  E.  (now  Mr.  Justice)  Barry.  Epitomizing  the  case  as  briefed  to 
him,  he  made  this  statement.  When  subsequently  its  falsehood,  as 
regards  those  prisoners,  was  found  out  in  the  Castle,  all  that  was  done 
was  to  abandon — to  cease  from  mentioning — instead  of  openly  retract- 
ing it.  This  pitiful  course  wronged  the  prisoners  and  wronged  Mr. 
Barry.  It  left  the  former  under  the  odium  of  an  imputation  abhorrent 
to  them.  It  deprived  the  latter  of  the  opportunity  he  gladly  would  have 
seized  of  displaying  his  generosity  and  high  sense  of  justice  in  d^lWering 
his  own  miad,not  the  language  of  a  brief,  on  the  whole  proceeding. 
X       '      ^^-  ^  30*  -  


354  ^'E^^  IRELAND. 

convict  the  leading  conspirators.  It  wa§_J;he  conojiiission, 
under  the  hand  of  Mr.  Stephens,  as  supreme  chief  of  the 
revolutionary  movement,  appointing  Messrs.  Luby,  O'Leary, 
and  Kickham  a  triumvirate  or  executive  during  his  absence 
on  a  visit  to  the  American  circles.     It  ran  as  follows : 

"  I  hereby  empower  Thomas  Chirke  Luby,  John  O'Leary,  and  Charles 
J.  Kickham  a  Committee  of  Organization  or  Executive,  with  th^^asie 
supreme  control  over  the  hoAie  organization,  England,  Ireland,  and 
Scotland,  that  I  h^xs._exercised  myself.  I  further  empower  them  to 
appoint  a  Committee  of  Militar^^Inspection  and  a  Committee  of  Appeal 
and  Judgment,  the  functions  of  which  committee  will  be  made  known 
to  every  member  of  them.  Trusting  to  the  patriotism  and  abilities  of 
the  Executive  I  fully  endorse  their  actions  beforehand.  I  call  on  every 
man  in  our  ranks  to  support  and  be  guided  by  them  in  all  that  concerns 
the  military  brotherhood. 

"  J.  Stephens." 

Mr.  Luby  was  borne  off  to  prison.  His  papers  were  car- 
ried under  seal  to  the  Castle.  Mr.  George_jIopper  (whose 
sister  was  wife  of_Mri^_Stephens),  Mr.  John  O'Leary,  and 
many  others,  were  arrested  in  the  early  morning.  It  may  be 
said  that  before  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Stephens  himself  and  two  or  three  others,  the  Govern- 
ment had  in  their  grasp  every  man  of  prominence  connected 
with  the  Irish  branch  of  the  conspiracy. 

Still,  the  remark  which  almost  involuntarily  fell  from  me 
on  hearing  the  news  that  morning  was  on  every  lip,  "  If  they 
have  not  got  Stephens,  their  swoop  is  vain.  He  will  fill 
up  all  gaps,  and  give  the  signal  for  action  ere  twenty-four 
hours." 

INIeantime  all  over  Ireland  scenes  somewhat  similar  to 
those  above  described  were  proceeding.  Midnight  arrests 
and  seizures,  hurried  flights  and  perilous  escapes,  wild  rumors 
and  panic  alarms,  scared  every  considerable  city  and  town. 
It  was  a  critical  time  in  Dublin  Castle.  Sir  Thomas  Larcom, 
Under-Secretary,  sat  up  all  night,  every  five  minutes  receiv- 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  355 

ing  reports  and  issuing  directions.  So  anxious  was  the  Gov- 
ernment as  to  the  successful  seizure  of  the  Irish  People  office, 
that  Mr.  O'Ferrall,  the  Commissioner  of  Police,  and  Colonel 
Wood,  Inspector-General  of  Constabulary,  personally  super- 
intended the  proceedings  at  that  spot.  Colonel  Lake,  C.B., 
took  general  charge  of  the  arrangements  throughout  the  city 
for  effecting  the  arrests  and  sui)pressing  any  resistance.  In 
Dublin  and  Cork  an  outbreak  was  fully  anticipated.  Into 
the  latter  city  an  additional  battery  of  artillery  was  hastily 
despatched  from  Ballincollig.  All  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison 
were  aroused  from  their  beds  and  put  under  arms  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and  reinforcements  from  Fermoy 
and  other  stations  were  rapidly  hurried  in. 

With  troubled  minds  and  heavy  hearts  the  citizens  of 
Dublin  counted  the  hours  of  that  exciting  day,  alarm  intensi- 
fying as  night  approached.  ^Many  sat  up  until  near  dawn, 
listening  for  the  first  roar  of  artillery  or  rattle  of  musketry 
in  the  streets;  and  it  was  with  an  indescribable  sense  of  re- 
lief that  people  found  the  night  pass  tranquilly  away. 

Where  was  Stephens  all  this  time  ?  Calm  and  undisturbed, 
living  openly  enough  in  a  pretty  suburban  villa  not  two  miles 
from  Dublin  Castle.  Proclamations  offering^  two  hundred 
pounds  for  his  arrest  were  scattered  all  over  the  country,  and 
a  description  of  his  person  was  posted  at  every  barrack  door. 
Thousands  of  policemen,  hundreds  of  spies  and  detectives, 
were  exerting  every  effort  of  ingenuity  to  discover  his  where- 
abouts ;  all  in  vain.  They  scrutinized  every  railway-passen- 
ger; they  laid  hands  on  every  commercial  traveller  who 
happened  in  any  way  to  resemble  his  description.  They  had 
a  keen  eye  for  everything  that  might  seem  like  a  disguise. 
They  never  thought  of  looking  for  him  in  no  disguise  at  all ! 
"  Mr.  Herbert,"  of  Fairfield  House,  Sandymount,  affected  no 
concealment.  He  lived,  no  doubt,  veiy  much  at  home,  but 
he  might  be  seen  nearly  every  day  in  his  flower-garden  or 


356  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

greenhouse  busily  arranging  his  geraniums  or  tending  his 
japonicas.  He  lived  well,  kept  a  good  cellar,  and  had  his 
house  furnished  tastefully.  It  never  occurred  to  the  detective 
mind  that  a  placid-looking  gentleman  so  deeply  immersed  in 
horticulture  could  be  concerned  in  politics.  "  I\lXi  Herbert," 
no  doubt,  went  into  town  occasionally  in  the  evenings?  On 
the  night  of  the  seizure  he  was  atTheTbJgings  of  one  of  the 
Fenian  organizers  (Flood)  in  Denzille  Street,  giving  inter- 
views, one  by  one,  to  the  agents  and  subordinates  who  waited 
in  an  anteroom.  Suddenly  James  O'Connor,  of  the  Irish 
People,  entered  and  asked  for  "  the  Captain."  His  manner 
was  a  little  disturbed,  but  on  being  told  he  should  wait  he 
sat  down  quite  composedly  till  his  turn  came.  On  being 
shown  into  Stephens's  room,  he  told  the  news :  the  office  was 
in  the  hands  of  the  police ;  Rossa  and  several  of  tlieir  com- 
rades had  been  arrested ;  search  and  seiznre  were  being  fiercely 
prosecuted  all  around.  Stephens  excitedly  rushed  into  the 
anteroom  with  the  intelligence.  The  assembled  confederates 
exhibited  their  surprise  and  emotion  in  various  ways.  There 
was  one  among  them  particularly  Avho  dispUwed  wliatToolved 
like  intense  astonishmenl_-xmd  concern.  This  was  Pierce 
Nagle,  the  paid  spyujf  the  Government, — who  knew  all ! 

They  separated  for  their  homes.  ^Ir.  Stephens  reached 
Fairfield  House  in  safety,  and  soundly  slept ;  but  several  of 
the  others  found  themselves  in  the  police-cells  before  morning, 
— with  the  ^est,  Pierce  Nagle.  It  was  only  when  next  day 
they  were  brought  up  LiSt^'e  the  magistrates  for  formal  com- 
mittal that  each  was  able  to  know  how  many  of  his  friends 
shared  his  fate.  IMuch  they  wondered  who  among  them  had 
played  false, — who  would  appear  at  the  critical  moment  in 
the  witness-box  against  them  !  They  did  not  know  he  was 
that  moment  standing  in  their  midst,  ap^iaroiiUuL^risoner 
like  themselves.  At  length,  after  Pierce  had  played  the  role 
of  "  martyr"  for  a  few  days,  it  was  deemed  time  for  him  to 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  357 

step  forth  in  his  true  character,  his  evidence  in  court  being 
required.  When  the  day  arrived,  and  their  former  comrade, 
the  trusted  servant  and  agent  of  their  chief,  stepped  on  the 
table  as  Crown  witness,  to  swear  them  to  the  scaffold,  the 
doomed  men  exchanged  glances  of  despair, — the  despair  that 
flings  hope  away,  not  that  which  quails  before  disaster. 

Two  months  passed  by,  and  still  all  search  for  Stephens  was 
vain.  A  special  commission  was  issued  for  the  trial  of  Luby, 
O'Leary,  Rossa,  and  others,  on  the  approaching  27th  of 
November.  The  story  now  circulated  and  universally  be- 
lieved was  that  Stephens  had  solemnly  announced  these  men 
were  in  no  danger, — nay,  that  they  and  their  prosecutors 
would  exchange  positions  ere  many  days !  Early  in  Novem- 
ber the  Dublin  police  remarked  that  Mrs.  Stephens  was  seen 
in  Dublin  very  much  as  usual.  They  tracked  her  on  several 
evenings  towards  Sandymount,  and_always  lost  her  in  the 
neighborhood  of  "  Mr.  Herbert's"  house^^  3tn  extra  police 
force  was  immediately  stationed  in  the  district,  and  a  minute 
search,  house  by  house  and  road  by  road,  was  prosecuted.  On 
Thursday,  the  9th  of  November,  Mrs.  Stephens  was  observed 
to  leave  Fairfield  House  and  proceed  towards  Dublin.  She 
was  dogged  through  tfie^  city  and  baci?  to  her  home  by  female 
spies.  The  police  now  decided  that  the  man  they  wanted 
was  within  their  power.  On  Friday  evening  the  house  was 
stealthily  surrounded  and  watched  by  a  number  of  detectives. 
Many  circumstances  convinced  them  the  conspirator  was 
within.  That  the  struggle  to  capture  him  would  be  desperate 
and  bloody  was  the  conviction  in  every  mind.  About  an 
hour  before  dawn  on  Saturday  morning,  the  whole  of  the 
"  G"  division  of  police,  under  the  personal  command  of 
Colonel  Lake,  C.B.,  surrounded  the  house.  Six  divisional 
inspectors  scaled  the  garden-wall  and  knocked  at  the  back 
door  of  the  house.  A  voice,  which  twb  of  them  recognized 
as  that  of  Stephens,  asked  from  within,  "  Who  is  there?     Is 


358  ^EW  IRELAND. 

that  Corrigan  ?"  meaning,  it  would  seem,  the  gardener,  who 
usually  came  to  his  work  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning. 

The  answer  was,  "  Police." 

"  I  cannot  let  you  in.    I  am  undressed,"  said  the  C  O.  I.  R. 

"  If  you  do  not  open  this  instant,  we  will  burst  the  door," 
rejoined  Inspector  Hughes. 

Stephens,  who  was  in  his  night-dress,  ran  through  the  hall 
to  the  front  door,  looked  out,  and  saw  that  the  house  was 
surrounded.  He  returned  to  the  back  door,  undid  the  bolts, 
and  rushed  up-stairs  to  his  bedroom.  He  was  quickly  and 
closely  followed  by  the  police,  who  suspected'  some  deep  de- 
sign in  this  easy  admittance.  In  the  bedroom  were  Mrs. 
Stephens  and  her  sister.  Detective  officers  Dawson  and 
Hughes  reached  the  room  at  a  few  bounds.  The  former, 
who  knew  the  Fenian  chief,  called  out,  "  How  are  you, 
Stephens  ?" 

Stephens  looked  angrily  at  the  speaker,  and  cried,  "Who 
the  devil  are  you  ?" 

"  I  am  Dawson,"  said  the  detective,  with  professional 
pride  in  the  conviction  that  every  one — at  all  events  every 
one  concerned  in  illegal  practices — must  have  heard  of 
"  Dawson." 

"  Dawson !  Oh,  indeed !  I  have  read  about  you,"  re- 
plied the  Head  Centre,  who  leisurely  proceeded  to  dress  him- 
self. W  hile  this  scene  was  proceeding  in  Stephens's  bedroom, 
the  other  apartments  of  the  house  had  been  rapidly  filled 
with  police,  and  other  captures  barely  less  important  were 
effi}cted.  In  a  bedroom  close  by  were  found  Charles  J. 
Kickham,  Hugh  Brophy,  and  Edward  Duffy,  the  latter  of 
whom  might  have  been  not  incorrectly  called  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  Fenian  movement  west  of  the  Shannon.  Under 
their  pillows  were  found  four  Colt's  revolvers,  loaded  and 
capped.  A  large  sum  of  money — nearly  two  tliousand-jiounds 
in  notes,  gold,  and  drafts — was  also  found  in  the  room.    The 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  359 

house  evidently  had  been  provisioned  as  the  intended  refuge 
of  several  persons  for  some  weeks.  Large  quantities  of 
bacon,  flour,  groceries,  wines,  spirits,  etc.,  were  stored  on  the 
premises.  The  strong  force  of  police  in  and  around  the 
house  showed  to  all  the  captives  the  fruitlessness  of  resist- 
ance. They  quietly  dressed  themselves,  and  long  ere  the 
neighboring  dwellers  were  astir,  or  knew  of  the  astonishing 
drama  that  had  been  enacted  amidst  the  parterres  of  Fair- 
field House,  the  Avhole  party  were  carried  off  and  secured 
under  bolts  and  bars  in  Dublin  Castle. 

It  was  approaching  noon  before  the  news  got  abroad. 
Then  indeed  the  city  broke  forth  into  excitement  that  was 
not  half  terror.  The  dreaded  C.  O.  I.  R.  was  actually  in 
custody.  Now  might  every  one  sleep  with  easy  mind.  No 
"  rising"  need  be  apprehended.  No  lurid  flame  of  civil  war 
would  redden  the  midnight  sky.  Exultation  beamed  on 
every  detective's  face.  "  We  have  done  it,"  might  be  read 
in  the  toss  of  every  policeman's  head  as  he  proudly  paced  his 
beat. 

On  the  following  Tuesday  the  four  prisoners  were  brought 
before  the  magistrate  in  the  lower  Castle  yard.  The  van 
which  conveyed  them  was  accompanied  by  a  mounted  escort 
with  drawn  sabres,  and  preceded  and  followed  by  a  number 
of  cars  conveying  policemen  armed  with  cutlass  and  revolver. 
Along  the  route  the  patrols  had  been  well  strengthened,  and 
every  precaution  taken  against  a  rescue.  There  was  great 
anxiety  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  celebrated  Fenian  chief,  who 
since  the  arrests  of  the  15th  of  September  had  become  for  the 
first  time  a  popular  hero.  The  police  escorts  and  guards, 
however,  prevented  any  one  from  approaching.  Not  a  glance 
could  be  exchanged  with  the  object  of  all  this  curiosity.  A 
distinguished  party  of  viceregal  visitors  or  friends,  and  some  of 
the  higher  executive  functionaries, — including  Lord  Chelms- 
ford, Sir  Robert  Peel,  Colonel  Lake,  Mr.  Wodehouse,  private 


360  ^'E]V  IRELAND. 

secretary  to  the  Lord-Lieutenant,  and  otliers, — were  accom- 
modated with  seats  in  the  magistrate's  room,  having  shared 
the  general  desire  for  a  look  at  "  the  Captain."  Indeed  it  is 
said  the  lady  of  one  of  them  successfully  pleaded  for  a  glimpse 
of  Stephens  and  his  colleagues  while  in  the  prison.  When 
Xagle  was  brought  in,  he  perceptibly  trembled,  and  avoided 
meeting  the  gaze  of  the  prisoners.  Stephens  bore  himself 
quite  coolly,  nay,  cavalierly.  His  letter  to  the  Clonmel 
"  B's"  was  read  as  evidence.  When  the  clerk  came  to  the 
passage  declaring  this  should  be  "the  year  of  action,"  Ste- 
phens startled  them  all  by  loudly  interjecting,  "  So  it  may 
be." 

Although  he  must  have  read  in  the  public  newspapers  of 
the  extensive  seizure  of  letters  and  other  documents  in  the 
course  of  the  previous  arrests,  he  seems  to  have  kept  quite  a 
store  of  like  evidence  at  Fairfield  JHouse.  There  were  lists 
or  rolls  oT  th^]A^erican  officers  ;  name,  ranks,  travelling 
charges  paid  them,  and  the  dates  of  sailing  for  Ireland. 
There  Mas  a  minute,  or  memorandum,  apparently  of  the  Mil- 
itary Council,  settling  the  pay  in  dollars  which  those  officers 
were  to  receive :  major-general,  monthly,  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars;  brigadier-general,  four  hundred  dollars;  colonel 
(special  arm),  two  hundred  and  forty-eight  dollars  ;  ditto  in- 
fantry line,  two  hundred  and  thirty-eight  dollars ;  lieutenant- 
colonel  (special  arm),  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars; 
ditto  infantry  line,  two  hundred  and  fifteen  dollars;  major 
(special),  two  hundred  dollars ;  captains,  of  all  arms,  one 
hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars  ;  lieutenants,  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars;  second  ditto,  one  hundred  and  fifteen 
dollars.  There  Avas  a  list  of  places  orgaiii^ed,  and  of  the 
centres  in  charge,  a  sheet  of  cipher-terms,  and  lefters  in  great 
.abundance.  In  truth,  the  documents  seized  on  this  occasion 
enabled  the  organization  to  be  gripped  far  more  extensively 
and  effijctually  than  was  possible  before. 


THE  RICHMOND   ESCAPE.  361 

The  preliminary  examination  extended  over  a  couple  of 
days.  At  its  close,  on  Wednesday,  15th  of  November,  the 
magistrate,  previous  to  committing  Hie  prisoners,  asked  each 
if  he  had  any  observations  to  make.     Stephens  said  he  had. 

The  magistrate. — "  I  shall  be  bound  to  take  it  down." 
Stephens. — "  Yes  ;  take  it  down." 

Then  rising  to  his  feet  and  folding  his  arms,  he  said,  "  I 
have  employed  no  lawyer  in  this  case,  because  in  making  a 
defence  of  any  kind  I  should  be  recognizing  British  law  in 
Ireland.  Now,  I  deliberately  and  conscientiously  repudiate 
the  existence  of  that  law-m-Imlaftdy— ita_right,  or  even  its 
existence,  in  Ireland.;.  ,_and  I-defj^any  punishment,  and  de- 
spise any  punishment,  it  can  inflict  upon  me.  I  have  spoken 
it." 

What  did  this  mean  ?  Ten  days  subsequently  these  words 
were  recalled,  with  a  fall  perception  of  their  import. 

"  Stephens  has  escaped  !  Stephens  has  escaped  !"  This  was 
the  cry  which  rang  from  end  to  end  of  Dublin  on  the  morn- 
ing of  Saturday  the  25th  of  November,  1865. 

"  Stephens  ?     Escaped  ?" 

"  Yes !" 

"  From  Richmond  Bridewell  ?  When  ?  How  ?  Impos- 
sible :" 

Such  were  the  exclamations  or  interrogations  to  be  heard 
on  every  side.  Stephens  escaped  !  Consternation  —  utter, 
hopeless  consternation — reigned  throughout  the  city ;  that  is 
to  say,  among  the  business  classes.  The  populace  were  very 
differently  affected.  This  daring  achievement  was  all  that  was 
necessary  to  immortalize  the  Fenian  leader.  The  police  and 
detectives  went  about  the  streets  crestfallen  and  humiliated ; 
while  members  of  the  Fenian  fraternity  could  be  pretty  well 
identified  by  the  flashing  eye,  the  exultant  countenance,  the 
wild  strong  grip  with  which  they  greeted  one  another. 

81 


362  iS'^jr  IRELAND. 

The  Fenian  leaders  had  been  confined  in  Richmond  prison, 
awaiting  their  trial  on  the  27th  of  Xovember.  When  built, 
fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  Kichmond  was  one  of  the  strongest 
jails  in  Ireland  ;  but  it  was  entirely  wanting  in  those  facili- 
ties for  supervision  w^hich  the  modern  prisons  with  radiating 
corridors  possess.  At  the  head  of  one  of  the  several  stone 
stairs  which  connect  the  ground-floor  cell  system  with  the 
upper  tier  ran  a  short  cross-corridor  of  six  cells.  The  door 
between  the  corridor  and  stairhead  was  of  heavy  hammered 
iron,  nearly  an  inch  thick,  and  secured  by  a  lock  opening 
from  either  side.  The  cell-doors  were  likewise  of  wrought 
iron,  fastened  with  ponderous  swinging  bars  and  padlocks. 
The  other  end  of  the  corridor  was  closed  by  a  similar  door. 
In  these  six  cells,  thus  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  prison, 
Stephens,  Luby,  0'Lear>^,  Kickliinnj  and  Rossa  were  con- 
fined. In  the  sixth  cell,  that  b^tweeiiStephens  and  Kick- 
ham,  the  governor,  Mr.  Marquess,  placed  a  young  lad,  named 
McLeod,  an  ordinary  j)risoner,  M'ith  instructions_toJisten  at 
night,  and  ring  his  cell-gong  if  he  heard  anything  close  by. 
Lest  there  might  be  any  tampering  or  undue  communication, 
no  warder  or  other  person  was  allowed  in  the  corridor  at 
night,  but  a  warder  and  policeman  were  placed  outside  the 
locked  door  at  the  end  opposite  the  stairhead  door.  At 
the  latter  no  watch  was  deemed  necessary.  Military  guards 
and  sentries,  and  a  detachment  of  police,  had  been  plentifully 
placed  in  the  prison  when  first  Stephens  was  committed  ;  but 
the  Castle  raised  a  petty  squabble  with  the  prison  board  as  to 
the  expense  of  these  men,  and  they  were  almost  all  withdrawn. 
A  dispute  over  ten  or  twelve  pounds  cost  the  Government 
the  prize  for  which  they  afterwards  oifered  a  thousand,  and 
would  have  given  fiv'e  times  as  much  right  readily  ! 

Vain  were  all  bolts  and  bars,  iron  doors  and  grated  windows, 
to  hold  Stephens  in  that  prison.  In  anticipation  of  such  a 
possibility  as  that  which  had  occurred,  some  of  the  prison 


THE  RICHMOND  ESCAPE.  363 

officers  had  long  previously  been  secretly  secured  as  sworn 
members  of  the  "  I.  R.  B."  One,  J.  J^  Breslin,  was  hospital 
superintendent;  another,  Byrne,  was  night-watchman,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  patrol  the  whole  building,  yards,  and  passages, 
from  *'  lock-up"  at  night  to  "  unlock"  each  morning.  Breslin 
had  a  pass-key  for  all  interior  doors ;  Bryne  had  one  for  in- 
terior and  exterior.  The  moment  "  the  Captain"  was  brought 
in,  wax  impressions  or  moulds  of  these  keys  were  taken,  and 
duplicates  were  at  once  manufactured  by  an  expert  hand 
among  the  brotherhood  in  the  city. 

As  long,  however,  as  the  sentries  and  patrols  were  around, 
free  access  through  the  doors  was  of  little  advantage.  For- 
tunately for  the  Fenian  leader,  the  dispute  about  expense 
(already  referred  to)  drew  off  the  danger.  By  Thursday  the 
23d  of  November  the  coast  was  clear;  and  it  was  decided 
that  on  the  following  night  his  liberation  must  be  effected. 

Night  came.  liock-up  and  final  inspection  were  duly  com- 
pleted. The  warders  paraded,  and  gave  up  their  pass-keys 
to  be  locked  in  the  governor's  safe.  The  watches  were 
posted,  and  sang  out,  "  All's  well."  Stephens  did  not  go  to 
bed  at  all.  He  sat  up  through  the  night,  aware  that  some 
time  between  midnight  and  morning  his  deliverer  would  be  at 
hand.  The  elements  were  propitious.  For  years  Dublin  had 
not  been  visited  by  such  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain  as  howled 
through  the  pitchy  darkness  ofthat  night.  The  prison  clock 
had  chimed  one  when  Stephens  heard  a  stealthy  footfall  ap- 
proach. The  stairhead  door  Avas  unlocked.  A  friendly  tap 
at  his  own  door,  and  soon  it  swings  open.  Daniel  Byrne  and 
James  Breslin  are  outside.  Softly  they  descend  the  stair, 
eachTiian-now  grasping  a  revolver,  for  a  desperate  work  has 
been  begun.  They  gain  the  yard,  and  reach  the  boundary- 
wall  at  a  spot  outside  which  confederates  were  to  be  in  waiting. 
They  fling  over  the  wall  a  few  pebbles, — the  pre-arranged 
signal.    In  answer  a  small  sod  of  grass  is  thrown  to  them  from 


364  ^EW  IRELAND. 

the  other  side.  Then  they  bring  from  the  lunatic  prisoners' 
day-room,  which  is  close  by,  two  long  tables,  which  they  lay 
against  the  wall.  A  rope  is  thrown  over,  which  Byrne  and 
Breslin  are  to  hold  while  Stephens  descends  by  it  on  the  outer 
side.  He  mounts  the  tables ;  he  gains  the  top,  and  swings 
into  the  arms  of  his  friends  below.  Thoug-h  rain  is  falling- 
in  torrents,  and  each  one  is  drenched  to  the  skin,  they  bound 
Avith  joy  and  embrace  effusively.  Stephens  is  hurried  off 
with  a  single  attendant  to  the  asylum  already  selected  for  him 
in  the  city.  Breslin  retires  to  his  room  in  the  prison,  and 
Byrne  resumes  his  duty  patrol ! 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mr.  Philpots,  deputy  gov- 
ernor, was  excitedly  called  by  Byrne,  who,  faithful  and  vigi- 
lant officer  that  he  was,  reported  that  he  had  found  two  tables 
in  the  yard  close  by  the  boundary-wall,  and  much  he  feared 
that  something  had  gone  wrong.*  They  ran  to  the  governor 
and  aroused  him.  All  hurried  to  the  corridor  where  the 
Fenians  ought  to  be.  Lo !  one  of  the  cell-doors  ajar,  and 
the  "  C.  O.  I.  R."  flown.  All  the  others— Luby,  Kickham, 
O'Leary,  Rossa — were  safe  and  sound,  but  the  man  of  men 
for  them  was  gone  ! 

Mr.  Marquess  asked  McLeod  if  he  had  heard  any  noise. 
Yes,  he  had,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning;  he  heard 
some  one  open  the  end  door,  come  to  Stephens's  cell,  and 
unlock  it. 

"  Why  did  you  not  pull  your  gong,  as  I  told  you  to  do  ?" 
asked  the  distracted  governor. 

"  Because  I  knew  whoever  was  doing  this  was  likely  to  be 

*  A  few  days  later  on  Byrne  was  arrested.  A  copy  of  the  Fenian 
oath  and  other  seditious  documents  were  found  in  his  desk  within  the 
prison  ;  but  the  Crown  would  not  bring  home  to  him  the  charge  of  aid- 
ing Stephens's  escape.  Breslin  remained  unsuspected  in  the  prison  ser- 
vice for  several  months  subsequentl}',  when  he  "look  leave  of  absence, 
fled  to  America,  and  there  miiiudly  avowed  all. 


THE  RICHMOND   ESCAPE.  365 

armed,  and  could  open  my  cell  also,  and  take  my  life,"  was 
the  intelligent  and  indeed  conclusive  answer. 

At  no  time  probably  since  Emmet's  insurrection  were  the 
Irish  executive  authorities  thrown  into  such  dismay  and  con- 
fusion as  on  this  occasion.  They  now  realized  what  it  was  to 
deal  with  a  secret  society.  Whom  could  they  trust?  How 
could  they  measure  their  danger  ?  Very  evidently  the  ground 
beneath  them  was  mined  in  all  directions.  Uncertainty  mag- 
nified every  danger.  Meantime,  the  most  desperate  efforts 
were  made  to  recapture  Stephens.  Cavalry  scoured  the  coun- 
try round.  Police  scattered  all  over  the  city,  particularly 
in  suspected  neighborhoods,  ransacked  houses,  tore  down 
wainscoting,  ripped  up  flooring,  searched  garrets,  cellars, 
coal-holes.  Telegrams  went  flying  all  over  the  kingdom; 
steamers  were  stopped  and  the  passengers  examined ;  gun- 
boats put  to  sea  and  overhauled  and  searched  fishing-smacks 
and  coasters.  Flaming  placards  appeared  Avith  "  One  Thou- 
sand Pounds  Reward"  in  large  letters  announcing  the  escape, 
and  offering  a  high  price  for  the  lost  one.  The  "C.  O.  I. 
R."  was  all  this  time,  and  for  a  long  period  subsequently, 
secreted  in  the  house  of  a  Mrs.  Butler  of  Summer  Hill,  a 
woman  of  humble  means.*  She  knew  her  peril  in  sheltering 
him.  She  knew  what  would  be  her  reward  in  surrendering 
him.  She  was  poor,  and  could  any  moment  earn  one  thou- 
sand pounds  by  giving  merely  a  hint  to  the  authorities. 
Stephens  confided  himself  implicitly  into  her  hands,  and  he 
did  not  trust  her  in  vain. 

One  Sunday  evening  about  three  months  afterwards  a 
handsome*  open  carriage-and-four  drove  through  the  streets 
of  the  Irish  metropolis,  two  stalwart  footmen  seated  in  the 
dickey  behind.  Two  gentlemen  reclined  lazily  on  the  cush- 
ioned  seat    within.      They    proceeded    northwards   through 


*  She  died  a  few  years  ago  in  a  public  hospital  of  the  city. 
31* 


366  -^-Eir  IRELAND. 

Malahide  and  towards  Balbriggan.  Xear  the  latter  place, 
close  by  the  sea,  the  carriage  stopped.  One  of  the  occupants 
got  out,  and  walked  down  to  the  shore,  where  a  boat  was  in 
waiting.  He  entered,  and  was  pulled  off  to  a  lugger  in  the 
offing.  The  carriage  returned  to  Dublin.  The  "  coachman," 
"  postilion,"  "  footmen,"  and  companion  were  all  picked  men 
of  the.  "  I.  R.  B.,"  and  were  armed  to  the  teeth.  The  gentle- 
man placed  on  board  the  lugger,  now  speeding  down  the 
Channel  with  flowing  sheet  for  France,  was  James  Stephens, 
the  "  Central  Organizer  of  the  Irish  Republic." 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

INSURRECTION  ! 

For  three  weary  years  Ireland  endured  the  perils  and 
pains  of  a  smouldering  insurrection.  Stephens's  decree  as  to 
the  "year  of  action"  came  to  naught:  1865  went  out  gloom- 
ily enough,  but  without  the  expected  convulsion.  Still, 
every  one  could  discern  that  the  danger  had  by  no  means 
blown  over.  The  Fenians,  it  was  Avell  known,  were  maktng 
strenuous  efforts  to  repair  the  gaps  made  in  their  ranks,  and 
to  recover  themselves  for  a  stroke  in  force.  The  two  years 
which  followed  the  first  arrests  were  little  else  than  a  pro- 
tracted struggle  between  the  Government  and  the  secret 
organization.  The  former  was  striking  out  vehemently, 
smashing  through  circles,  pouncing  on  councils,  seizing  cen- 
tres, destroying  communications,  raiding  right  and  left 
through  the  shattered  lines  of  the  "  I.  R.  B."  The  latter, 
on  the  other  hand,  undeterred  by  disaster,  went  on,  clinging 
desperately  and  doggedly  to  the  work  of  reconstruction.  As 
fast  as  seizures  swept  oif  leaders,  others  stepped  into  the 
vacant  posts.  Court-house,  dock,  and  prison-van  were  filled 
and  emptied  again  and  again.  Assize  and  commission,  com- 
mission and  assize,  took  their  dismal  turn.  The  deadly  duel 
went  on.     It  seemed  interminable. 

T.  C.  Luby  was  the  first  of  the  prisoners  brought  to  the 
bar.  His  trial  lasted  for  four  days, — from  the  28th  of  Novem- 
ber to  the  1st  of  December,  1865,  inclusive.  He  had  for  his 
leading  counsel  Mr.  Isaac  Butt,  whose  masterly  abilities  in 
previous  State  trials,  the  theme  of  national  praise,  were  dis- 
played even    more  conspicuously  now.     But  there  was  no 

367 


368  ^^^  iRELAyn. 

struggling  against  the  overwhelming  evidence  of  documents 
preserved  by  the  conspirators  themselves.  The  "  Cloumel 
letter"  and  the  "  executive  commission"  sealed  the  doom  of 
the  three  men  who  were  incontestably  the  ablest  and  most 
prominent  of  the  Fenian  leaders.  Luby  was  found  guilty 
and  condemned  to  penal  servitude  for  twenty  years.  While 
the  jury  in  his  case  were  absent  from  court  deliberating  on 
their  verdict,  O'Leary  Avas  put  to  the  bar.  On  the  6th  of 
December  his  trial  closed  with  a  conviction  and  a  sentence 
of  twenty  years'  penal  servitude.  Xext  came  Rossa.  He 
dismissed  tiie  lawyers  and  announced  that  he  meant  to  con- 
duct his  own  defence.  Never  was  such  a  scene  witnessed  in 
that  court-house !  "  He  cross-examined  the  informei-s  in 
fierce  fashion,"  says  an  eye-witness ;  "  he  badgered  the  detec- 
tives, he  questioned  the  police,  he  debated  with  the  Crown 
lawyers,  he  argued  with  the  judges,  he  fought  with  the  Crown 
side  all  round.  But  it  was  when  the  last  of  the  witnesses 
had  gone  off  the  table  that  he  set  to  the  work  in  good  earnest. 
He  took  up  the  various  publications  that  had  been  put  in 
evidence  against  him,  and  claimed  his  legal  right  to  read 
them  all  through.  One  of  them  was  the  file  of  the  Irish 
People  for  the  whole  term  of  its  existence !  Horror  sat  upon 
the  fiices  of  judges,  jurymen,  sheriffs,  lawyers,  turnkeys,  and 
all,  when  the  prisoner  gravely  informed  them  that  as  a  com- 
promise he  would  not  insist  upon  reading  the  advertisements ! 
The  fight  went  on  throughout  the  livelong  day,  till  the  usual 
hour  of  adjournment  had  come  and  gone,  and  the  prisoner 
himself  was  feeling  parched  and  weary  and  exhausted.  Ob- 
serving that  the  lights  were  being  now  renewed,  and  that 
their  lordships  appeared  satisfied  to  sit  out  the  night,  he  anx- 
iously inquired  if  the  proceedings  were  not  to  be  adjourned 
till  morning.  "  Proceed,  sir,"  was  the  stern  reply  of  the 
judge,  who  knew  that  the  physical  powers  of  the  prisoner 
could  not  hold  out  much  longer.     "  A  regular   Norburv !" 


INSURRECTION!  369 

gasped  O'Donovan.  "  It's  like  a  '98  trial."  "  You  had 
better  proceed  with  propriety,"  exclaimed  the  judge.  "  When 
do  you  propose  stopping,  my  lord  ?"  again  inquired  the  pris- 
oner. "  Proceed,  sir,"  was  the  reiterated  reply.  O'Donovan 
could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  had  been  reading  and  speaking 
for  eigl>t,  hours  and  a  half.  With  one  final  protest,  he  sat 
down,  exclaiming  that  "  English  law  might  now  take  its 
course."  '         '  -^ — -—___——__ 

On  the  day  following  this  remarkable  scene,  Rossa  was 
sentenced  to  penal  servitude  /br^/gr arr-ejtcesg  of  punishment 
over  that  assigned  to  his  colleagues,  arising  out  of  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  adjudged  guilty  on  a  like  charge  in  1858,  and 
had  then  been  released  on  bond.-ia£~l^_gQod  behavior,''  and  an 
undertaking  to  appear  for  sentence  when  called  on. 

Many  of  the  prisoners  were  military  men,  and  to  these 
trial  by  the  civil  tribunal  wasrigT3t5r'denied.  The  courts- 
martial  had  a  grim  sensation  of  their  own  ;^  for  flogging  was 
often  portion  of  the  sentence  inflicted;  and  that  revoTling 
spectacle,  which  no  one  Avho  has~~ever  looked  on  it  would 
willingly  behold  again,  shocked  the  Dublin  public  from  time 
to  time. 

It  was  not  the  power  and  arms  of  the  British  Government 
alone  that  operated  to  disorganize  and  destroy  the  Fenian 
movement.  Dissension  and  revolt  among  its  leaders  broke 
its  power.  Before  two  years  Stephens  was  the  object  of  fierce 
denunciation  from  his  own  followers,  and  John  O'Mahony  was 
deposed  and  degraded  T)y  tRiFSenate  of  the  American  Branch, 
over  whiciriie  had  so  long  presided.  In  each  case  the  de- 
throned or  impeached  leaders  had  numerous  partisans,  so  that 
the  unity  of  the  organization  on  each  side  of  the  Atlantic  was 
at  an  end. 

Stephens,  having  remained  a  short  time  in  France,  after 
his  escape  from  Ireland,  proceeded  to  America,  and  sought  to 
bring:  the  sundered  sections  of  the  brotherhood  there  under 


370  ^^^  IRELAND. 

his  own  sole  authority.  But  although  iu  Ireland  he  was  still 
believed  in  and  obeyed  implicitly  as  ever,  already  among  the 
circles  on  the  other  side  his  pretensions  and  his  abilities  were 
being  severely  canvassed!  He  found  Tmt  few  willing  to  con- 
stitute him  a  dictator,  andthis  he  would  be  or  nothing.  The 
more  resolute  and  influential  Fenian  party  in  the  States  dis- 
carded him  altogether,  and,  on  the  policy  of  "  striking  Eng- 
land where  they  could,"  attempted  the  daring  design  of  an 
invasion  of  Canada.  Tiiis  w'as  of  course  utterly  frustrated 
by  the  interference  of  the  American  Government ;  and  a  loud 
outcry  was  raised  by  the  Irish  that  they  had  been  cheated  by 
the  AVashington  authorities.  The  promises  or  intimations 
held  out  wOien  recruits  were  needed  during  the  Civil  War 
were  now  found  to  be  mere  skilful  lures  to  catch  an  ardent 
and  soldierly  race  more  full  of  courage  than  of  wisdom. 
This  Canadian  failure  was  used  by  Stephens  to  the  reproach 
of  those  who  had  declined  his  discretion,  and  now  he  said  he 
would  show  them  the  right  road.  He  would  return  to  Ireland 
and  unfurl  the  flag  of  revolution.  Once  more  he  emphatically 
declared  forV'tiiis  year."  At  a  public"  meeting  in  Jones's 
Wood,  New  Yorlv,  he  reiterated  the  pledge,  sealing  his  dec- 
laration with  asoletnu^oath.  This  announcement,  made  in 
the  autumn  of  1866,  plunged  Ireland  anew  into  the  whirl  of 
startling  rumors  and  wild  alarms. 

The  insurrection,  or  attempted  insurrection,  of  1867  was 
one  of  those  desperate  and  insensate  proceedings  into  which 
men  involved  in  a  ruined  cause  sometimes  madly  plunge, 
rather  than  bow  to  the  disgrace  and  dishonor  of  defeat  with- 
out a  blow.  Stephens  spent  all  the  latter  half  of  1866  in 
endeavors  to  raise  money  in  America  for  the  newly-promised 
rising.  Again  and  again  he  announced  that  1866  would  not 
pass  away  without  the  tocsin-call  to  arms,  and  that  he,  James 
Stephens,  would  be  on  Irish  soil  to  perish  or  conquer.  Sin- 
ister insinuations  began  to  creep  about  that  he  would  do 


INSURRECTION!  371 

nothing  of  what  he  vowed ;  but  these  were  silenced  by  an- 
nouncements in  November  that  he  had  left  America  and 
sailed  for  Ireland.  Then  indeed  the  Irish  Government  stood 
to  arms.  Then  did  alarm  once  more  paralyze  all  minds.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  worst  reality  would  be  less  painful  than  this 
prolonged  uncertainty  and  recurring  panic.  War-steamers 
cruised  around  the  island.  Every  harbor  and  landing-place 
was  watched.  Every  fishing-boat  was  searched.  Every  pas- 
senger was  scrutinized.  Each  morning  people  scanned  the 
papers  eagerly  to  learu  if  the  RebeF  Chief  had  yet  been  dis- 
covered. As  the  last  week  of  1866  approached,  the  public 
apprehension  became  almost  unbearable.  Until  the  great 
clock  of  the  General  Post-Office  had  chimed  midnight  on  the 
31st  of  December,  and  Christ  Church  bells  rang  in  the  new 
year,  the  belief  that  an  explosion  was  at  hand  could  not  be 
shaken. 

Stephens  had  not  stirred  from  America.  All  this  time  he 
was  secreted  in  the  house  of  a  friend  in  Brooklyn.  He  did 
not  venture  on  Irish  soil  either  to  conquer  or  to  perish.  He 
realized  the  hopelessness  of  the  attempt  he  had  sworn  to 
undertake,  and  preferred  to  face  the  rage  and  scorn  of  his 
followers  rather  than  the  perils  that  awaited  him  in  Ireland. 
He  had  no  ambition  to  occupy  a  cell  beside  Luby  and  Kick- 
ham  in  Mil  Ibankor  Woking.  In  truth,  the  Irish  Fenian 
Chief  may  be  said  attHis^oint  to  have  disappeared  from  the 
scene.  Scorning  to  defend  himself,  he  has  ever  since  re- 
mained silent  alike  under  blame  and  praise.  Intolerant, 
unscrupulous,  and  relentless "h imse If  in  his  day  of  power,  he 
has^Beeh  the  victim  of  many  a  wrong  and  been  pursued  by 
many  a  hate  in  his  fall.  The  absurd  exaggeration  of  his 
abilities  which  once  prevailed  has  been  followed  by  a  mon- 
strously unjust  depreciation  of  them.  He  was  a  born  con- 
spirator; and,  though  comrades  and  subordinates  have 
changed  idolatry  for  execration,  Stephens  must  be  ranked  as 


372  iN'Sir  IRELAND. 

one  of  the  ablest,  most  skilful,  and  most  dangerous  revolu- 
tionists of  our  time. 

The  shouts  of  derision  •which  arose  over  this  Stephens 
fiasco  cut  like  daggers  to  the  hearts  of  the  men  in  Ireland 
and  America  who  clung  with  invincible  tenacity  to  the  fatal 
purpose  of  an  armed  struggle.  At  every  check  and  reverse 
which  befell  the  Fenian  enterprise  the  English  newspapers 
wrote  confidently  of  the  "  collapse"  and  "  termination." 
"The  end  of  it"  was  announced  and  gravely  written  upon 
a  score  of  times  betweeft  1865  and  1868,  and  morals  and 
lessons  were  preached  from  what  was  regarded  as  a  past 
transaction.  While  a  general  chorus  of  felicitation  was 
being  raised  in  the  press  over  this  the  "  really  final  disap- 
pearance" of  the  Fenian  spectre,  the  Government  became 
aware,  early  in  1867,  that  "  the  men  at  home,"  discarding 
reliance  on  Anierican  aid  (beyond  the  assistance  of  the  nu- 
merous military  staff  still  concealed  in  the  countr}'),  meant  to 
strike  at  last. 

At  a  secret  council  of  delegates  held  in  Dublin,  the  12th 
of  February  was  fixed  on  for  a  simultaneous  rising;  and 
word  to  this  intent  was  sent  throughout  the  island.  A  day 
or  two  previous  to  this  date  it  was  decided  to  postpone  pro- 
ceedings to  the  5th  of  March.  The  countermajid  failed  to 
reach  in  time  the  Fenian  captain  in  command  at  Cahir- 
civcen ;  and  on  Wednesday,  13th  of  February,  the  news 
rang  out  that  West  Kerry  was  aflame.  From  Killarney 
came  word  that  the  wires  westward  were  all  cut,  that  a 
mounted  policeman  carrying  despatches  had  been  captured 
and  shot,  that  coast-guard  stations  and  police  barracks  had 
been  disarmed,  and  that  the  Iverah  hills  "swarmed"  with 
men.  Much  of  this  was  exaggeration ;  but  the  worst  was 
believed  for  the  time.  The  gentry  of  the  neighborhood 
flocked  into  Killarney,  bringing  their  wives  and  children, 
and  many  of  them  their  plate,  jewels,  and  other  valuables. 


INSURRECTION  I  373 

They  took  possession  of  the  railway  hotel,  and,  assisted  by 
some  military  and  police,  set  about  fortifying  it.  A  stock  of 
provisions  was  laid  in.  The  ladies  made  bags  which  the 
gentlemen  filled  with  sand  and  piled  in  the  windows.  Arms 
were  distributed,  sentries  posted,  scouts  sent  out,  and  urgent 
appeals  for  aid  were  telegraphed  to  Dublin  Castle.  Mean- 
time, from  Dublin,  Cork,  and  Limerick  military  hastened 
to  the  pl^ce,  as  many  as  three  express-trains  being  despatched 
with  troops  from  the  Curragh  camp  within  twenty-four 
hours  of  the  alarm.  AVhat  had  really  happened  was  that 
the  Cahirciveen  insurrectionary  contingent,  unaware  of  the 
countermand  that  2ijid_reachedjll  other  places,  marched  out 
on  the  night  of  the  12th,  to  meet,  as  they  believed,  the 
forces  from  neighboring  districts.  It  was  only  after  they 
had  approached  Killarney  that  they  discovered  how  the  facts 
lay,  and  they  forthwith  dispersed  as  best  they  could.  The 
district  being  so  wild  alid~mountatnous7and  communication 
so  difficult,  it  was  a  week  before  the  Government  authorities 
could  realize  that  all  was  over, — that  Iverah,  as  that  portion 
of  the  county  is  called,  was  not  in  the  possession  of  a  power- 
ful rebel  force.  Headed  by  the  local  gentry,  parties  of  mili- 
tary and  police  commenced  the  "  surrounding"  of  mountains 
and  the  "  beating"  of  woods  supposed  to  conceal  forces  as 
numerous  and  desperate  as  those  roused  by  the  whistle  of 
Roderick  Vich  Alpine  Dhu.  Ever  and  anon  as  a  wild  deer 
broke  from  his  cover  in  the  fern  a  shout  would  arise.  "  Here 
they  are  !"  Bugles  sounded  ;  the  troops  closed  in  for  a  dash 
at  the  enemy,  but  found  he  was  only  the  antlered  lord  of  the 
glen ! 

Elsewhere,  work  much  more  serious  had  very  nearly  fol- 
lowed upon  a  like  failure  in  the  Fenian  countermand. 

It  was  resolved  that  the  circles  of  Lancashire  should  co- 
operate with  the  Dublin  movement  by  a  proceeding  which 
for  daring  and  audacity  could  hardly  be  excelled.     They  had 

32 


374 


NEW  IRELAND. 


information  that  Chester  Castle  contained  some  twenty  thou- 
sand stand  of  arms,  besides  accoutrements  and  ammunition  to  a 
large  extent,  and  that  tlie  place  had  onlyanominal  garrison. 
A  Fenian  military  council  in  Liverpool  decided  to  attack 
Chester  Castle,  seize  the  arms,  cut  the  telegraph  wires,  "  im- 
press" the  railway  rolling-stock,  load  trains  with  men  and 
arms,  and  make  for  Holyhead.  Here  they  were  to  seize  all 
the  steamei-s  in  port,  and  speed  for  Dublin,  in  the  expectation 
of  landing  in  that  city  before  intelligence  of  their  astounding 
feat  could  possibly  have  reached  Ireland  ! 

It  is  now  admitted  that  they  would  have  succeeded,  at  all 
events  so  far  as  capturing  Chester  Castle,  were  it  not  that  at 
e  secret  council  which  sat  to  complete  the  arrangements 
there  was  present  John  Joseph  Corydon,  one  of  Stephens's 
most  trusted  agents,  high  in  the  confidence  of  the  conspira- 
tors,— and  deep  in  tiie  pay  of  the  Government.  Comlon 
carried  the  news  of  the  projected  attack  on  Chester  to  Major 
Gregg,  Chief  Constable  ofLiyerpool.  It  was  subsequently 
alleged,  but  disputed,  that  nearly  a  whole  day  was  lost  by  the 
authorities  through  their  utter  incredulity  as  to  this  sensa- 
tional story.  Certainly  it  was  only  within  a  few  hours  of  the 
time  fixed  for  the  attack  that  its  imminence  was  realized.  By 
fT^^  fl//all  the  morning  trains  from  jNlanchcster,  Bolton,  Warrington, 
J  k  5^  etc.,  numbers  of  able-bodied  Irishmen  Avere  observed  to  arrive 
\/^  ^  at  Ciiester.     They  lounged  carelessly  about  in  small  parties, 

jY  i/\  ^^^  seemed  to  be  awaiting  others.  Suddenly  the  chief  con- 
1  stable  of  Chester  and  the  colonel  of  the  military  received  tele- 
grams which  must  have  taken  their  breath  away.  The  guards 
on  the  Castle  were  instantly  doubled  ;  the  police  marched 
/Q^^^  out;  mounted  expresses  dashed  off  in  all  directions.  Soon 
/  c  troops  began  to  arrive^from  Birkenhead  as  fast  as  special 

trains  could  bring  them.  Very  quickly  the  loitering  groups 
were  observed  to  disperse,  on  some  whispered  message  reach- 
ing them.     They  poured  into  every  train,  returning  to  the 


INSURRECTION!  375 

towns  they  had  left  ia  the  morning.  They  had  got  word 
that  the  plot  was  "  blown  upon"  by  some  traitor,  and  must 
be  abandoned.  Some  of  them  were  observed  to  fling  re- 
volvers into  the  Dee.  A  large  party  took  the  train  to  Holy- 
head, and  the  North-wall  boat  to  Dublin.  TliajnauientUJifiy 
touched  Irish  ground  they  were  arrested  and  marched  off  to 
Kilmainham  prison. 

Befoi'e  our  minds  had  recovered  from  the  perplexity  and 
confusion  which  these  events  created,  we  found  ourselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  long-threatened  and  gloomily-apprehended 
"rising."  On  the  night  of  Monday  the  4th  or  morning  of 
Tuesday  the  5th  of  March,  1867,  the  Fenian  circles  took  the 
field.  Cork,  Tipperary,  Dublin,  Louth,  Limerick,  Clare,  and 
Waterford  alone  responded  in  any  appreciable  degree  to  the 
revolutionary  summons.  For  two  days  previously  it  was 
little  secret  that  the  event  was  at  hand.  Young  men  took 
leave  of  friends;  clerks  closed  up  their  accounts,  so  that  no 
imputation  on  their  honesty  might  arise ;  and  on  the  even- 
ing of  Monday  crowds  of  men  between  the  ages  of  seventeen 
and  fifty  were  noticed  thronging  the  churches.  The  outbreak 
wa.s  crushed  in  its  birth.  The  Government,  through  Cory- 
don,  knew  of  the  most  secret  and  important  arrangements 
beforehand.  The  dismay  and  demoralization  produced  in  the 
insurgent  ranks  by  the  clear  signS  aiid  proofs  that  some  one 
high  in  position  among  them  must  be  betraying  everything 
did  more  than  bullet  or  sword  to  disperse  and  quell  the  move- 
ment. The  Limerick  Junction  stolon,  on  the  Great  Southern 
and  Western  Raihvay,  was  recognized  as  a  point  of  consider- 
able strategic  importance;  and  as  it  was  in  the  heart  of  the 
most  disaffected  district  in  Ireland — Tipperary,  Cork,  and 
Limerick — it  offered  great  advantages  as  the  centre  of  opera- 
tions in  the  South.  Brigadier-General  Massey  was  appointed 
to  take  command  of  the  insurrection  at  this  point.  He  had 
been  awaiting  in  Cork  the  signal  for  action.     On  the  evening. 


376  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

of  the  4th  of  March  he  took  his  place  in  the  up  mail  train 
and  reached  the  junction  about  twelve  o'clock.  As  he  stepped 
out  of  the  railway-carriageTTe  fouiid  himself  in  the  grasp  of 
four  detectives,  as  majjxjo^ded  revolvers  being  pointed  at  his 
head.  He  gave  one  hurried  glance  around,  and  saw  that  the 
platform  was  occupied  by  military  under  arms.  Then  this  man 
who  had  faced  death  a  Vinnrlrpfl  fimpg  nmUjaiL-  the  carnage  of 
the  American  civiL-wm-  fell  seiisrlei^ft  in  g  i>i'-nnn  i  In  a  few 
moments  he  was  hurried  off  to  Dublin  under  a  strong  guard, 
the  authorities  being  fully  aware  of  the  value  of  their  capture.* 
This  stroke  practically  disposed  of  the  South  of  Ireland. 
Ere  morning  the  news  had  sjiread  that  the  position  on  which 
the  numerous  local  bodies  were  to  converge  was  occupied  by 
Government  troops,  horse,  foot,  and  artillery ;  worse  still,  that 
General  Massey  was  a  prisoner  and  by  this  time  filled  a  dun- 
geon in  Dublin  Castle.  The  effect  was  what  might  be  ex- 
pected. Mustering  groups  broke  up ;  bodies  on  their  way  to 
the  rendezvous  turned  back  and  sought  home  again.  In  Kil- 
mallock,  county  Limerick,  a  serious  conflict  took  place.  An 
armed  liand,  numbering  about  two  hundred  men,  took  posses- 
sion of  the  town,  the  police  retreating  to  their  barracks, — a 
strong  building,  well  able  to  stand  a  siege.  While  one  party 
of  the  insurgents  kept  up  a  brisk  fire  on  the  barracks,  another 
proceeded  through  the  town,  and  se^irching  every  house  seized 
all  the,  arms  that  could  be  found.  A  circumstance  ever  since 
remembered  to  their  credit  in  the  locality  deserves  notice. 
There  were  two  banks  in  the  place,  each  containing  a  large 

*  Great  was  the  astonishment  of  every  one  when  a  few  weeks  subse- 
quently it  was  told  that  General  Massey  had  turned  Queen's  evidence. 
In  a  sense  he  had;  but  he  was  nn  spy  who  rpmnined  in  ranks  he 
meant  to  betray.  His  story  is  that,  finding  some  nnp  of  five  nien  who 
held  the  whole  conspiracy  in  their  hands  (he  did  not  then  know  it  was 
Corydon)  was  evidently  betraying  it,  he,  pondering  t2ie_c;i.sp  in  his  cell, 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  sooner  the  whole  business  was  burst  up 
and  stopped  the  less  victims  would  there  be. 


INSURRECTION!  377 

sum  of  money  in  gold,  silver,  and  notes ;  yet,  although  any 
guns  or  pistols  on  the  bank  premises  were  brought  away,  not 
a  penny  of  the  money  was  touched.  In  fact,  private  property 
was  most  scrupulously  respected,  although  the  town  was  for 
a  time  completely  in  their  hands.*  About  ten  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon  a  party  of  armed  constabulary  from  Kilfinane  arrived 
unexpectedly  on  the  rear  of  the  assailants  at  the  barracks,  and 
quickly  compelled  them  to  fly.  In  this  aifray  several  lives 
were  lost.  The  police,  being  under  cover,  escaped  with 
scarcely  any  casualty.  The  manager  of  one  of  the  banks, 
who  it  was  said  drew  a  revolver  on  the  rebel  captain,  was 
fired  at  and  wounded  by  the  latter.  One  of  the  insurgents 
who  was  killed  was  utterly  unknown  in  the  neighborhood ; 
and  the  people  subsequently  raised  over  his  grave  "  a  stone 
without  a  name."  This  lamentable  encounter  at  Kilmallock 
was  persisted  in  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  news  of  the  dis- 
aster at  the  Junction  had  caused  numbers  of  the  insurgents  to 
disperse.  The  truth  is,  the  arrest  on  the  previous  evening  of 
Mr.  W.  H.  O'Sullivan  (now  senior  member  of  Parliament 
for  Limerick),  one  of  the  most  popular  men  in  that  district, 
had  caused  strong  indignation  and  excitement  among  the 
people.  He  was  believed  to  be  unconnected  with  the  Fenian 
society,  and  his  arrest  was  regarded  as  an  act  of  Avanlon  and 
arbitrary  severity.  But  for  the  exasperation  arising  out  of 
this  incident,  it  was  thought  by  many  Kilmallock  might  have 
been  spared  the  painfully  prominent  part  it  played  in  the 
"  rising"  of  '67. 

In  the  metropolis  the  attempt  at  insurrection  was  an  utter 
failure.  From  eiojht  o'clock  in  the  evening:  until  an  hour 
before  midnight,  bodies  of  men,  young  and  old,  streamed  out 


*  A  sum  of  ten  pounds  found  in  a  letter  seized  on  a  captured  police 
orderly  was  "confiscated,"  the  distinction  being  evidently  drawn  between 
what  they  considered  Government  money  and  private  funds. 

32* 


378  iS"£IF  IRELAND. 

of  the  city  by  all  its  southern  outlets.  The  residents  along 
the  several  routes  in  many  cases  stood  at  the  doors  watching 
the  throng  go  by,  and  vainly  asking  what  it  was  all  about. 
Of  course  the  police  and  the  Government  knew ;  and  such 
non-Fenian  civilians  as  also  happened  to  divine  what  was 
afoot  marvelled  greatly  to  note  that  the  police  in  no  way 
interfered  with  the  iutendiuo^  insurgents.  It  afterwards 
transpired  that  Sir  Httgh-jWe,,.commander-in-chief,  gave 
the  word  to  let  all  who  would  go  out,  and  he  would  take  care 
how  they  got  in.  That  is  to  say,  he  preferred  to  deal  with 
the  difficulty  in  the  open,  and  not  in  the  streets  of  a  crowded 
city.  A  ])lace  called  Tallaght,  about  four  or  five  miles  due 
south  of  Dublin,  and  lying  at  the  base  of  a  chain  of  moun- 
tains stretching  into  Wicklow,  Kildare,  and  Carlow,  was 
named  as  the  rebel  rendezvous.  General  Halpin  being  in 
command.  The  very  simple  expedient  of  preventing  any 
assemblage  at  all — of  receiving  the  first  comers  with  a  deadly 
volley,  and  causing  all  others  approaching  to  know  that  the 
gathering  was  already  disastrously  dispersed — very  effectually 
disposed  of  the  insurgent  plan.  It  Avas  a  most  complete  col- 
lapse. Not  one-fourth  of  the  number  who  set  out  for  the 
place  ever  reached  Tallaght  at  all.  Had  they  once  got 
together,  no  doubt  a  severe  struggle  and  a  deplorable  loss  of 
life  might  have  resulted.  Happily  only  two  men  were  killed, 
and  a  dozen  or  more  wounded.  A  party  marching  from 
Kingstown  captured  the  police  barracks  at  Stepaside  and 
G'lencullen,  disarming  the  policemen,  but  offering  them  no 
further  harm.  This  band,  like  all  the  others,  on  arriving 
near  Tallaght,  met  fugitive  groups  announcing  that  all  was 
over.  By  a  little  after  midnight  further  attempt  was  univer- 
sally abandoned.  Of  the  two  or  three  thousand  men  who 
had  quitted  Dublin  in  the  evening,  hundreds  were  arrested 
on  the  canal  bridges,  whereby  alone  they  could  re-enter  the 
city,  while  others,  scattering  through  the  hills,  endeavoring 


INSURRECTION  I  379 

to  escape  by  way  of  Kildare  or  Wicklow,  were  pursued  in 
all  directions  by  the  royal  lancers  and  dragoons. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Cork  city  the  rising  attained  to  its 
most  formidable  dimensions,  if  indeed  it  could  have  been  said 
to  be  formidable  even  for  a  moment  anywhere.  At  Midleton, 
Castlemartyr,  Ballyknockane,  and  other  places,  the  police 
barracks  were  attacked.  In  most  cases  the  police,  defending 
themselves  with  great  courage  against  what  for  aught  they 
knew  might  have  been  overwhelming  forces,  put  their  assail- 
ants to  flight.  In  some  instances,  however,  the  insurgents 
were  successful,  and  again  it  is  to  be  noted  that  they  used 
their  brief  hour  of  triumph  humanely  and  honorably.  At 
Ballyknockane,  where  the  celebrated  Captain  Mackay  was 
in  command,  they  surrounded  the  barrack  and  demanded  its 
surrender  in  the  name  of  the  Irish  Republic.  "  The  police 
fired,"  says  a  trustworthy  account)  "  and  the  fire  was  returned. 
Then  the  insurgents  broke  in  the  door  and  set  fire  to  the 
lower  part  of  the  barrack.  Still  the  police  held  out.  '  Sur- 
render !'  cried  the  insurgents:  '■you  xoant  to  commit  suicide, 
but  we  don't  ivatit  to  commit  murder.'  One  of  the  policemen 
then  cried  out  that  a  little  girl,  his  daughter,  was  inside,  and 
asked  if  the  attacking  party  would  allow  her  to  be  passed 
out.  Of  course  they  would,  gladly ;  and  the  little  girl  was 
taken  out  of  the  window  with  all  tenderness,  and  given  up 
to  her  mother,  who  had  chanced  to  be  outside  the  barrack 
when  the  attack  commenced.  At  this  time  a  Catholic  clergy- 
man, the  Rev.  Mr.  Neville,  came  on  the  spot.  He  asked  the 
insurgent  leader  whether,  if  the  police  surrendered,  any  harm 
would  be  done  to  them.  'Here  is  my  revolver,'  said  Captain 
Mackay  :  '  let  the  contents  of  it  be  put  through  me  if  one  of 
them  should  be  injured.'  " 

Tij)perary  was  bound  to  be  in  the  front  if  fighting  was  going 
on.  General  T.  F.  Burke  was  commander  here.  But  in  Tip- 
perary  the  story~was  the^ame  as  in  Dublin,  in  Limerick,  in 


380  iV^£W^  IRELAND. 

Cork,  and  in  Drogheda.  The  insurgents  were  utterly  desti- 
tute of  armament  or  equipment  that  could  enable  them  for  a 
moment  to  withstand  disciplined  forces.  Courage,  fortitude, 
endurance,  the  hapless  people  indubitably  displayed ;  but  as 
to  preparation  or  resource,  a  more  lunatic  attempt  at  revolu- 
tion the  world  never  saw.  

I  have  so  far  attributed  the  easy  quelling  of  this  insurrec- 
tion to  the  fact  that  the  Government,  through  their  spies,  were 
virtually  behind  the  scenes,  and  were  able  to  anticipate  and 
check  ev^ery  move  of  their  foes.  But  it  is  a  public  fact,  very 
singular  in  its  nature,  that  tlie  elements,  in  a  large  degree, 
contributed  to  this  result, — a  circumstance  universally  re- 
marked upon  at  the  time.  On  the  evening  of_llie  5th  of 
March  there  set  in  all  over  Ireland  a  snow-storm  for  which 
there  has  been  no  parallel  since,  and  was  none  for  half  a  cen- 
tury before.  For  five  days,  with  scarcely  amonTCnt's  intermis- 
sion, ?rom~TeS,den  skies  the  flakes  came  down,  until  in  some 
places  the  snow  lay  three  and  four  feet  deep.  Roads  were 
impassable,  and  on  the  mountains  a  Siberian  spectacle  met  the 
view.  The  troops  on  service  suffered  severely  ;  cavalry  horses 
perished  in  numbers.  But,  after  all,  the  troops  had  safe  and 
comfortable  barracks  or  billets  to  rest  in  at  night ;  whereas  a 
guerilla  warfare,  involving  life  on  the  unsheltered  hill-side, 
was  the  main  reliance  of  the  insurgents.  There  was  no  at- 
tempting to  co])e  with  this  fearful  down-pour,  accompanied 
as  it  was  by  a  piercing  hurricane.  Jubilant  after-dinner  citi- 
zens in  Dublin,  reclining  before  a  blazing  fire,  rubbed  their 
hands  and  recalled  how  in  tiie  days  of  Philip's  Armada 
and  Heche's  expedition  the  heavens  themselves  fortunately 
seemed  to  fight  on  tiie  side  of  England. 

News  of  the  rising  was  flashed  by  Atlantic  cable  to  Amer- 
ica, and,  as  that  wonderful  wire  never  minimizes  a  sensation, 
the  American  papei's  teemed  with  accounts  unbridled  in 
their  exaggeration  and  extravagance.     Ireland  was  in  arms ! 


INSURRECTION!  381 

Nearly  the  whole  of  the  southern  province  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  insurgents !  The  smoke  of  battle  clouded  every  Irish 
hill !  The  red  cross  of  St.  George  still  flew  over  Dublin 
Castle,  but  elsewhere,  east  and  west,  it  was  sorely  pressed  ! 

Notwithstanding  the  sickening  disheartenment  which  pre- 
vious Fenian  attempts  and  failures  had  produced,  the  Irish 
millions  in  the  States  were  filled  with  excitement  and  sym- 
pathy. Wise  friends  cried  out  to  "  Wait  a  week."  A  fort- 
night's later  news  toned  down  the  telegraphic  story  a  good 
deal :  still  there  were  hearts  bounding  for  the  fray,  beyond 
all  possibility  of  restraint. 

On  the  12th  of  April,  1867,  there  lay  off  Sandy  Hook  a 
brigantine  of  about  two  hundred  tons  burden,  loaded  and 
ready  to  put  to  sea.  The  freight  she  had  received  consisted 
of  "  pianos,"  "  sewing-machines,"  and  "  wine  in  casks  :"  at 
least,  piano-cases,  sewing-machine-cases,  and  wine-barrels 
filled  her  hold.  The  goods  were  all  directed  and  consigned 
to  a  merchant  firm  in  Cuba.  This  was  the  good  ship  "  Jack- 
nell,"  well  known  in  the  West  India  trade,  and  flying  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  at  her  main.  On  the  date  above  mentioned 
a  party  of  forty  or  fifty  men,  almost  all  of  whom  had  been 
officers  or  privates  in  the  American  army,  got  on  board  a 
small  steamer  at  one  of  the  New  York  wharves  and  started 
as  if  for  a  trip  down  the  bay.  They  carried  no  luggage  what- 
ever, and  there  was  nothing  about  their  movements  to  excite 
particular  attention.  They  reached  Sandy  Hook,  and  rounded 
to  under  the  stern  of  the  "  Jacknell."  The  "  excursiorysts" 
boarded  her,  and  the  steamer  returned  without  them  to  New 
York.  That  night  the  "  Jacknell"  set  sail,  steering  towards 
the  West  Indies.  Her  real  destination  was  Ireland;  her 
errand  to  assist  the  insurrection.  The  piano-cases  held  no 
pianos ;  the  barrels  contained  no  wine ;  but  deftly  packed  in 
them  were  five  thousand  stand  of  arms,  three  pieces  of  field- 
artillery,  and  two  hundred  thousand  cartridges.     The  party 


382  ^EW  IRELAND. 

consisted  of  General  J.  E.  Kerrigan,  Colonel  S.  R.  Tresilian, 
Colonel  John  AVarren,  Colonel  Nagle,  Lieutenant  Augustine 
E.  Costello,  Captain  Kavanagh,  and  a  number  of  others. 
Having  steered  for  twenty-four  hours  to  the  southward,  they 
changed  their  course  and  headed  for  Ireland.  On  the  29th 
of  April,  being  Easter  Sunday,  sealed  orders  were  opened, 
commissions  were  distributed,  tlie  Irish  Sunburst*  was  hoisted 
and  hailed  with  a  salute  from  their  three  field-pieces,  the  ves- 
sel's name  was  changed  to  the  "  Erin^s  Hope.'^  and  all  on 
board  kept  high  festival.  An  astonishing  enterprise  it  was, 
truly,  to  set  out  across  the  Atlantic  in  this  little  brigantine 
for  a  hostile  landing  on  the  Irish  coast,  watched  as  it  was  at 
every  point  by  cruisers  on  the  sea  and  coast-guard  sentinels 
on  shore !  Their  destination  was  Sligo  Bay,  which  they 
reached  on  the  20th  of  May.  They  stood  on  and  off  for  a 
day  or  two,  until  they  were  boarded  by  an  agent  from  their 
friends  on  shore.  His  account  of  the  true  state  of  aifairs 
widely  contrasted  with  the  flaming  telegrams  of  the  New 
York  Herald  that  had  hurried  them  on  this  mission.  A 
landing  in  Sligo  he  told  them  was  impossible,  but  they  were, 
he  said,  to  make  an  effort  to  get  the  arms  and  ammunition  on 
shore  somewhere  on  the  southern  coast.  Meantime,  intelli- 
gence had  reached  the  Government  that  a  suspicious-looking 
craft  was  hovering  off  the  w^estern  harbors.  Quickly  the 
Queenstown  and  Yalentia  gunboats  were  on  the  alert,  and  for 
a  fortnight  the  "  Erin's  Hope"  had  a  perilous  time  of  it  run- 
ning the  gauntlet  night  and  day.  By  this  time  she  had  been 
sixty-two  days  at  sea,  and  the  stock  of  water  and  provisions 
on  board  was  nearly  exhausted.  There  was  nothing  for  it 
but  to  land  the  bulk  of  the  party  forthwith,  and  return  to 
America  with  as  many  as  the  rations  would  support  on  the 

*  The   ancient   Irish   war-banner, — a  golden  sun-blaze  on  a  green 
standard. 


INSURRECTION  1  383 

voyage.  Off  Helvick  Head,  near  Dungarvan,  they  hailed  a 
fishiug-boat,  and  when  she  came  alongside  some  thirty  of  the 
party,  to  the  fishermen's  great  surprise,  jumped  in.  The 
*'  Jacknell"  turned  to  sea,  and  the  boatmen  rowed  the 
strangers  on  shore.  Their  landing  was  observed  by  a  coast- 
guard lookout ;  messages  were  despatched  to  the  police-sta- 
tions around  ;  and  ere  many  hours  evj&ry  man  e£  the  "  Jack- 
nell" detachment  was  lodged  in  a  prison.  All  that  the 
Government  really  kne%v71iowever,  was  tliat  the  proceeding 
was  mysterious  and  suspicious.  The  men  were  unarmed. 
The  Helvick  landing  was  as  yet  unconnected  with  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  vessel  in  Sligo  Bay ;  and  for  weeks  (during 
which  time  the  prisoners  were  carefully  guarded  in  Kilmain- 
ham  prison)  the  whole  subject  occasioned  the  greatest  per- 
plexity in  Dublin  Castle.  At  length,  under  ski IfuL  treatment, 
the  reticence  of  one  of  the  captives  gave  way.  He  disclosed 
all  to  the  Government,  and  at  the  ensning^j^ommission  the 
whole  of  his  companions  stood  indicted  for  treason-felony. 

Two  important  legal  points  were  raised  on  the  trials  which 
ensued.  First,  whether  any  hostile  act  had  been  committed 
within  British  jurisdiction ;  secondly,  whether  American  citi- 
zens of  Irish  birth  would  have  their  American  status  recog- 
nized and  be  allowed  a  mixed  jury.  Colonel  Warren,  a 
native  of  Clonakilty,  in  Cork  County,  but  a  duly-naturalized 
citizen  of  the  United  States,  was  the  first  put  on  his  trial. 
When  the  jury  came  to  be  empanelled,  Mr.  Heron,  Q.C., 
produced  the  prisoner's  naturalization-papers  and  claimed  for 
him  a  jury  mediatate  Unguce.  The  presiding  judge  fully  re- 
alized the  gravity  of  the  point  which  he  was  about  to  decide  ; 
but  the  law  as  it  then  stood  was  clear  ;  no  subject  of  the  Brit- 
ish Crown  could  divest  himself  of  allegiance ;  and  so  he  ruled. 
An  ordinary  jury  was  sworn,  whereupon — 

Prisoner. — "  As  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  I  protest 
against  being  arraigned  at  this  bar." 


384  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

The  Chief  Baron. —  "We  cannot  hear  any  statement  from 
you  now;  your  counsel  will  speak  for  you  if  necessary." 

Prisoner. — "My  citizenship  is  ignored,  and  I  have  instructed 
my  counsel  to  withdraw.  The  Government  of  the  United 
States  has  now  become  the  principal." 

The  prisoner's  counsel  withdrew,  Colonel  Warren  refusing 
to  make  any  defence.  He  was  convicted,  and  on  Saturday, 
16th  of  November,  1867,  was  sentenced  to  fifteen  years' 
penal  servitude.  His  youthful  comrade,  Lieutenant  Augus- 
tine Costello,  was  next  arraigned.  He  likewise  was  found 
guilty,  and  consigned  to  twelve  years  of  a  similar  punishment. 

These  jiroceedings  led  to  one  of  the  most  important  altera- 
tions of  British  law  effected  in  our  time.  The  ancient  and 
fundamental  maxim  of  perpetual  allegiance  had  been  reso- 
lutely held  to  and  maintained  bv'  Englandthrough  centuries. 
The  American  Government,  on  the  other  hand/thougTi  it  had 
meanly  abandoned  Colonel  Warren,  found  it  indi^pejosable  to 
vindicate  the  position  he  had  asserted  on  his  trial.  The  whole 
fabric  of  American  power  stood  upon  that  doctrine ;  and  once 
more  England  and  America  were  in  utter  conflict  upon  its 
application.  Hap])ily,  instead  of  resorting  to  the  arbitra- 
ment of  battle,  as  in  1812,  the  two  Governments  entered  into 
active  negotiations  with  a  view  to  adjusting  so  serious  a  diffi- 
culty. The  United  States  had  nothing  to  change.  It  was 
for  England  to  alter  her  law  ofaTfegiance ;  and  so  she  did. 
In  1870,  the  Act  33  and  34  A^ict.  cap.  14,  known  (in  Ireland 
at  least)  as  the  "  Warren  and  Costello  Act,"  was  passed 
through  Parliament;  and  now  a  British-born  subject  may, 
by  certain  formalities,  divest  himself  of  his  birth-allegiance 
and  adopt  another  citizenship. 

With  the  close  of  the  "  Jacknell"  trials  we  all  fondly  hoped 
there  was  an  end  of  this  sad  and  weary  work  of  seizures  and 
arrests,  of  outbreaks  and  alarms.  A  mournful  disappointment 
awaited  us. 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

THE  SCAFFOLD   AND   THE   CELL. 

No  incidents,  probably,  in  the  straggles  of  Irish  disaffec- 
tion within  this  century  more  deeply  incensed  the  English 
people  than  two  which  occurred  towards  the  close  of  1867. 
These  were  the  Manchester  Rescue  and  the  Clerkenwell  Ex- 
plosion. It  is  not  astonishing  that  the  latter  outrage  should 
leave  behind  a  bitter  memory.*  Tlie  slaughter  of  innocent 
citizens,  little  ones  maimed  and  disfigured  for  life,  families 
decimated  and  homes  ruined, — these  are  things  no  mind  can 
calmly  dwell  upon.  Yet  there  is  no  good  end  to  be  served  by 
making  the  crime,  at  best  atrocious,  more  hideous  than  truth 
warrants.  Gross  stupidity  on  the  part  of  a  few  miserable  Irish 
laborers, — men  blindly  ignorant  of  the  fiill  power  and  reach 
of  a  gunpowder-explosion, — not  design  or  thought  of  hurting 
life  or  limb,  was  accountable  for  tliat  bloody  scene.  Had  the 
man  whose  rescue  was  to  be  accomplished  by  "driving  a  hole 
through  the  boundary-wall"  been  inside  at  the  spot  where  his 
would-be  liberators  were  told  he  was  to  be,  he  would  have 
been  blown  into  eternity.  The  consequences  that  resulted 
from  their  act — :the  effect  of  that  explosion  on  the  neighbor- 
ing dwellings — never  once  crossed  the  imaginations  of  the 

*  On  the  13th  of  December,  1867,  a  barrel  containing  gunpowder  was 
exploded  against  the  outer  wall  of  Clerkenwell  prison,  London,  by 
Fenian  sympathizers,  with  a  view  of  driving  a  hole  through  the  wall, 
inside  which  at  that  time  a  Fenian  prisoner,  named  Burke,  was  expected 
to  be  exercising.  The  whole  of  the  wall  for  sixty  yards  was  blown  in 
with  a  fearful  crash.  Some  tenement-houses  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  inhabited  by_very  poor  people,  were  demolished,  twelve  persons 
being  killed  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  maimed  or  wounded. 
z  33  ~~— 385 


386  NEW'  IRELAND. 

•wretched  perpetrators.  Yet  even  wlien  so  much  is  said  for 
truth  and  justice,  the  affair  is  one  from  which  a  sensitive 
mind  recoils,  and  anything  like  excuse  of  which  were  almost 
criminal. 

The  ^Manchester  Rescue,  however,  though  classed  in  the 
samje  category, — "  the  murder  of  Sergeant  Brett,"  as  it  is 
called  by  most  Englishmen, — was  of  wholly  different  com- 
plexion. That  the  life"  of  Sergeant  Brett  was  lost  on  that 
occasion  is  most  true  and  most  lamentable.  That  it  was  lost 
bv  misadventure,  not  sacrificed  by  design,  those  best  qualified 
to  know  assert,  and  the  Irish  people  fervently  believe.  That 
three  lives  were  offered  up  on  the  scaffold  to  avenge  that  one, 
is  a  fact  on  public  record. 

On  the  fall  or  deposition  of  James  Stephens  from  the  leader- 
ship of  the  Fenian  party,  his  ]>laee  was  taken  by  Coloiiel 
Thomas  J.  Kelly.  lie  it  was  who,  after  the  arrests  at  Fair- 
field House,  assumed  the  command  of  Fenian  affairs  in  Ire- 
land. He,  moreover,  planned,  directed,  and  personally  super- 
intended the  rescueof  Stephens,  f'roni^  Eichmond.  and  his  sub- 
sequent escape  to  France.  After  the  rising  of  March,  1867, 
Kellv  remained  some  six  months  or  more  in  Dublin,  nnd  to- 
wards the  close  of  October  crossed  to  Manchester,  to  attend  a 
council  of  the  English  "  centres."  Shortly  before  daybreak 
on  the  morning  of  the  11th  of  September,  policemen  on  duty 
in  Oak  Street,  Manchester,  noticed  four  menloitering  suspi- 
ciously in  the  neighborhood  of  a  Teadj^-maHe^oth i ng  shop. 
From  expressions  which  they  overheard,  the  police  concluded 
that  these  men  were  bent  on  some  illegal  jiurpose,  and  at- 
tempted to  arrest  them.  In  the  struggle  whick  envied,  two 
of  the  suspects  esciiped.  The  remaining  two  were  brought  next 
day  before  the  magistrates,  but  nothing  could  b~e  proved  against 
them.  They  gave  the  names  of  AVilliams  and  White  respect- 
ively, said  they  were  American  citizens,  and  claimed  their 
discharge.    The  magistrate  was  about  to  sentence  them,  under 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  387 

the  Vagrancy  Act,  to  two  or  three  days'  imprisonment,  when 
one  of  the  detective  force  applied  for  a  week's  remand,  as 
he  suspected  the  prisoners  might  have  some  connection  with 
Fenianism.  The  application  was  granted ;  and  ere  nightfall 
it  was  known  by  the  police  that  in  '^Williams"  and  "White" 
they  held  in  their  grasp  Colonel  Kel  1  v.  the  i^  enian^leader, 
and_CaptaiiLPeasy,  his  assistant. 

The  arrests  caused  great  commotion  among  the  Fenian 
circles  of  Manchester  and  surrounding  towns.  Secret  coun- 
cils were  held,  and,  after  much  deliberation,  the  desperate 
resolve  was  taken  to  intercept  the  van  conveying  the  prisoners 
from  the  court,  to  overpower  the  guard,  and  liberate  the 
Fenian  chiefs.  On  Wednesday,  the  18th  of  September,  the 
prisoners  were  again  brought  up,  duly  identified  as  Kelly  and 
Deasy,  and  once  more  remanded.  Before  they  had  left  the 
court,  telegrams  reached  it  from  Dublin  Castle  and  the  Home 
Office,  London,  warning  the  Mgnchester  authorities  that  a 
plot  was  on  foot  for  the  rescueof  thepr^oners.  The  warn- 
ing, if  not  derided,  was  doubted.  The  magistrates,  however, 
knowinar  that  these  men  had  numerous  adherents  in  Manches- 
ter,  thought  it  might  be  wise  to  take  some  precautions.  Kelly 
and  Deasy  were  handcuffed  and  locked  in  separate  compart- 
ments in  the  van;  and  twelve  policemen,  instead  of  three, 
the  usual  guard,  were  ordered  to  accompany  it.  Five  sat  on 
the  broad  box-seat,  two  on  the  step  behind,  and  four  followed 
in  a  cab ;  one.  Sergeant  Brett,  sat  within  the  van.  The  pris- 
oners in  the  vehicle  besides  the  two  Fenian  leaders  were  three 
women  and  a  boy  aged  twelve.  At  half-past  three  the  van 
drove  off  for  the  county  jail  at  Salford,  distant  about  two 
miles.  Under  the  railway  arch  which  spans  Hyde  Road  at 
Bellevue  a  man  darted  into  the  middle  of  the  road,  raised  a 
pistol,  and  shouted  to  the  drivers  to  pull  up.  At  the  same 
moment  a  party  of  about  thirty  men,  powerfully  built,  and 
armed  with  revolvers,  sprang  over  the  wall  beside  the  road, 


388  ^EW  IRELAND. 

surrounded  the  van,  and  seized  the  horses,  one  of  which  they 
shot.  The  police,  being  unarmed,  made  little  resistance,  and 
speedily  took  to  flight.  The  rescuers  produced  hatchets,  ham- 
mers, and  crow-bars,  with  which  they  sought  to  hew  or  burst 
open  the  van.  It  was  slower  work  than  they  imagined,  and 
soon  the  police  returned  accompanied  by  a  considerable  crowd. 
Some  twenty  of  the  rescuing  party  formed  a  ring  around  the 
van,  and  with  pistols  pointed  kept  back  the  policemen  and  the 
crowd,  over  whose  heads  shots  were  fired  from  time  to  time, 
while  the  others  continued  their  endeavors  to  force  the  van. 
They  shouted  to  Brett,Jhraugh_^ventilator  over  the  door,  if 
he  had  the  keys  to  give  them  up.  He  could  not  see  what 
was  taking  place  outside,  but  at  the  very  first  he  divined  the 
nature  of  the  attack.  With  devoted  fidelity  and  courage,  he 
refused  to  surrender  the  keys.  Anxious  to  obtain  a  glimpse 
of  the  assailing  party,  he  stooped  and  looked  out  through  the 
keyhole.  The  voice  of  some  one  in  command  outside  almost 
at  the  same  moment  cried  out,  "  Blow  it  open ;  put  your  pis- 
tol to  the  keyhole  and  blow  it  open  !"  The  muzzle  of  a  re- 
volver was  put  to  the  keyhole,  and  the  trigger  pulled.  Brett, 
inside,  fell  mortally  wounded.  The  female  prisoners,  scream- 
ing loudly,  cried,  "  He's  killed !"  and  lifted  him  up.  Again 
a  voice  at  the  ventilator  was  heard  demanding  the  keys,  which 
one  of  the  women  took  from  Brett's  pocket  and  handed  out. 
Then  "  a  pale-faced  young  man"  entered  the  van,  unlocked 
the  compartments  in  which  Kelly  and  Deasy  were  secured, 
and  brought  them  out.  The  rescued  prisoners  Avere  hurried 
away  across  the  fields  by  one  or  two  attendants,  the  rescuers 
preventing  pursuit.  Not  until  their  leaders  M'ere  completely 
out  of  sight  did  they  talce  thought  of  their  own  safety.  Then 
they  dispersed  in  all  directions.  They  Avere  ])ursued  by  the 
policemen  and  the  crowd,  which  had  now  swelled  consider- 
ably. Many  of  them  were  captured,  and  were  severely 
beaten  by  their  infuriate  captors.     One  of  them,  recognized 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  389 

as  the  young  man  who  had  entered  the  van  to  liberate  Kelly, 
and  who  was  afterwards  identified  as  William  Philip  Allen, 
was  knocked  down  by  a  blow  of  a  brick,  then  kicked  and 
stoned  while  he  lay  on  the  ground.  Several'Uf'  the  prisoners 
when  brought  into  town  were  streaming  with  blood,  from 
violence  done  them  in  this  way  during  or  after  capture. 
That  evening  Manchester  was  filled  with  consternation.  The 
story  of  the  rescue,  with  many  exaggerations,  spread  like 
wildfire.  The  people  thronged  the  streets,  discussing  tiie 
alarming  topic.  The  police,  inflamed  with  passion  and 
wounded  in  pride,  burst  in  strong  bodies  upon  the  Irish 
quarters  of  the  town,  making  wholesale  arrests  in  a  spirit 
of  fury.  The  anger  and  panic  of  Manchester  spread  next 
morning  through  all  broad  Britain.  The  national  pride  was 
wounded,  the  national  safety  invaded ;  the  national  authority 
had  been  bearded,  defied,  and  for  the  moment  defeated,  by  a 
handful  of  rebel  Irish  in  the  very  heart  of  an  English  city. 
A  roar  went  up  from  all  tiie  land  for  swift,  condign,  and 
ample  punishmwit. 

One  cannot  greatly  wonder  now  at  what  then  took  place  in 
England.  Panic  and  passion  reigned  supreme.  Riuuors  of 
new  plots  and  attacks  still  more  daring  and  dangerous  filled 
every  city.  Garrisons  were  strengthened ;  prison-guards  were 
doubled ;  special  constables  were  sworn  in.  Manchester  and 
the  surrounding  towns,  well  known  to  contain  a  large  Irish 
population,  were  especially  excited,  and  the  Irish  in  those 
places  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  In  the  midst  of  such  a  storm 
of  anger,  alarm,  and  passion,  a  Special  Commission  was  issued 
for  the  trial  of  the  Rescue  prisoners.  We  in  Ireland  saw  at 
once  that  this  was  doom  for  those  men,  innocent  or  guilty, — 
that  a  fair,  calm,  dispassionate  trial  at  such  a  moment  was  out 
of  the  question.  Heart-rending  appeals  readied  us  from  the 
families  of  men  absolutely  innocent  of  any  knowledge  of  the 
outrage,  but  who  had  been  arrested  by  the  police  in  the  swoop 

33* 


390  -^*^"'  IRELAND. 

on  Irish  homes  which  set  in  for  clays  subsequently.  Hope 
of  justice  there  was  little  or  none;  for  in  the  prevailing 
temper  of  the  English  mind  "  blood  for  blood"  was  the  cry 
on  all  hands.  Many  circumstances  corroborated  these  fears. 
When  the  prisoners  were  brought  before  the  magistrates  for 
committal,  on  the  25th  of  October,  they  were  put  to  the  bar 
in  irons.  Such  a  sight  had  not  been  seen  in  an  English  court 
of  justice  for  many  a  year.  Mr.  Jones,  as  an  Englishman,  and 
as  counsel  for  the  prisoners,  indignantly  protested  against  it. 
The  bench  decided  that  the  handcuffs  should  be  retained,  and 
the  audience  burst  iuto  applause.  Mr.  Jones  flung  down  his 
brief  and  quitted  the  court;  the  junior  counsel  for  the  accused, 
however,  remained. 

On  :Monday  the  28th  of  October,  William  Philip  Allen, 
Micliael  Larkin,  Thomas  Maguire,  ^lichael  O'Brien  (alias 
Gould),  and  Edward  Condon  (alias  Shore),  were  arraigned 
for  the  wilful  murder  oFttergeanTl^rett.  Tliat  the  men  who 
really  belonged  to  that  rescuing  jiarty  were  legally  guilty  of 
constructive  nuirder,  no  matter  which  one  of  them  fired  the 
shot  by  which  Brett  fell,  is  plain  and  clear  to  any  one  ac- 
quaiuted  with  the  simplest  principles  of  law.  But  the  moral 
guilt,  heavy  enough  in  any  case,  would  be  very  different  if, 
instead  of  mischance,  cold-blooded  design  had  led  to  Brett's 
nuirder.  The  Crown  alleged  that  he  was  deliberately  aimed 
at  and  shot  through  the  open  ventilator  over  the  van  door. 
The  [)rincipal  if  not  the  only  evidence  supporting  this  theory 
was  that  of  a  disreputable  female  thief  who  was  in  the  van 
on  the  way  to  her  third  term  oF^hrtpriMan ment  for  robbery. 
The  solemn  assertion  of  men  who  were  present  is  that  Brett 
was  shot  by  the  bullet  which  entered  through  the  keyhole,  as 
he  was  turning  away  after  glancing  at  the  scene  outside.  The 
evidence  on  the  trial,  especially  as  to  identification,  was  of  a 
wild  and  reckless  character,  as  the  Government  afterwards 
discovered.     The  five  men  were  nevertheless  found  guilty. 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  391 

They  were  arraigned  and  tried  together  on  the  one  indict- 
ment, and  were  convicted  on  the  one  trial,  in  tlie  one  verdict, 
— a  point  upon  which  much  subsequently  turnecT  TFey  were, 
all  five,  sentenced  to  be  hanged  on  the  23d  of  November. 
Before  sentence  they  each  addressed  the  court.  In  calmer 
mood  Englishmen  themselves  would  own  the  force  of  the 
protests  they  raised  against  what  they  called  "  the  rotten 
evidence"  and  "the  panic  paasion"  of  their  trial.  They  all 
deplored  earnestly  the  death  of  Brett.  Some  of  them  vehe- 
mently denied  that  they  were  even  present  at  the  aifray. 
"No  man  in  this  court,"  said  Allen,  "regrets  the  death  of 
Sergeant  Brett  more  than  I  do,  and  I  positively  say,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Almighty  and  ever-living  God,  that  I  am 
innocent, — ay,  as  innocent  as  any  man  in  this  court.  I  don't 
say  this  for  the  sake  of  mercy:  I  want  no  mercy;  I'll  have 
no  mercy.  I'll  die,  as  many  thousands  have  died,  for  the 
sake  of  their  beloved  land,  and  in  defence  of  it."  JNIaguire 
denounced  the  reckless  swearing  of  the  witnesses ;  said  he  had 
served  the  Queen  faithfully  as  a  marine,  was  loyal  to  her 
still,  and  bore  a  high  character  from  his  commanding  officer. 
Condon  was  the  last  to  speak.  He  solemnly  asseverated,  as  a 
dying  man,  that  he  was  not  even  present  at  the  rescue.  "  I 
do  not  accuse  the  jury,"  he  saill7"but  I  believe  they  were 
prejudiced.  I  don't  accuse  them  of  wilfully  wishing  to  con- 
vict, but  prejudice  has  induced  them  to  convict  when  they 
otherwise  would  not  have  done.  We  have  been  found  guilty, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  we  accept  our  death.  \ye  are  not 
afraid  to  die:  at  least  I  am  not."  "Nor  I,"  "Nor  I," 
broke  from  the  others  all.     He  went  on, — 

"  I  only  trust  that  those  who  are  to  be  tried  after  us  will  have  a  fair 
trial,  and  that  our  blood  will  satisfy  the  craving  which  I  understand 
exists.  You  will  soon  send  us  before  God,  and  I  am  perfectly  prepared 
to  go.  I  have  nothing  to  regret,  or  to  retract,  or  take  back.  I  can 
only  say,  '  God  save  Ireland.'  " 


392  ^^W  IRELAND. 

As  he  spoke  these  words,  his  companions,  "with  one  step, 
simultaneously  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  dock,  and,  lift- 
ing their  faces  and  extending  their  hands  upwards,  cried  out 
earnestly,  "  God  save  Ireland  !"  That  exclamation  has  since 
been  made  a  nationat-\v4itclvvvord  in  Ireland. 

Before  many  days  had  followed  the  trial,  a  feeling  began 
to  be  entertained  in  England  that  it  was  of  dubious  char- 
acter, and  that  the  correctness  of  the  verdict  was  open  to 
grave  question.  The  newspaper  reporters  who  had  attended 
on  behalf  of  the  London  and  provincial  press  felt  this  so 
strongly  as  to  Maguire  that  they  adopted  the  unusual  course 
of  sending  to  the  Home  Office  a  document  declaring  their 
deep  conviction  that  the  evidence  and  verdict  were  utterly 
wrong  as  regards  him.  After  some  days  spent  in  inquiry, 
the  Government  admitted  the  truth  of  this  startling  im- 
peachment, and  pardoned  Maguire.  Friends  of  humanity 
and  justice  among  the  English  people  now  took  courage  and 
spoke  out.  They  said  that  on  evidence  and  a  verdict  thus 
confessed  to  be  tainted  and  untenable  it  would  be  monstrous 
to  take  human  life.  Let  the  prisoners,  they  said,  be  pun- 
ished as  heavily  as  may  be,  short  of  taking  life,  impossible 
to  be  restored  if  hereafter  error  be  discovered.  Soon  news 
was  published  that  Condon  was  reprieved  pending  further 
consideration.  The  general  conviction  now  spread  that  a 
like  announcement  was  at  hand  as  to  the  others, — a  result 
attributed  to  the  exertions  of  courageous  and  philanthropic 
Englishmen  in  Manchester  and  London.  In  Ireland,  where 
the  whole  proceedings  were  followed  with  absorbing  interest, 
a  like  conclusion  was  very  widely  entertained.  Still,  it  was 
evident  that  a  powerful  section  of  English  public  opinion 
demanded  a  sacrifice.  The  pardon  of  INIaguire,  the  reprieve 
of  Condon,  were  called  lamentable  exhibitions  of  weakness 
and  vacillation.  If  disaffection  and  assassination  were  not 
to  have  a  triumph,  if  life  and  property  were  to  be  protected, 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  393 

law  and  order  asserted  and  avenged,  these  men  must  hang 
upon  the  gallows-tree. 

These  views  prevailed. 

In  anticipation  of  the  event  at  hand,  the  Government  or- 
dered large  bodies  of  troops  to  the  cities  and  towns  through- 
out England  where  a  dangerous  Irish  element  was  supposed 
to  exist.  Manchester,  as  was  observed  at  the  time,  resembled 
a  place  besieged.  Special  constables  were  enrolled  in  large 
numbers,  and  military  occupied  all  the  positions  deemed 
strategically  important  in  and  around  the  jail.  Early  on  the 
evening  of  the  22d,  a  crowd  commenced  to  assemble  outside 
the  prisou-wall.  Their  conduct  throughout  the  night  was 
very  bad  ;  several  times  the  jail  authorities  caused  them  to 
be  removed,  as  their  shouts,  yells,  and  songs  of  triumph 
disturbed  the  doomed  men  inside  preparing  for  eternity. 
"  Breakdown  dances"  were  performed,  and  comic  songs  were 
varied  with  verses  of  "  God  Save  the  Queen"  or  "  Rule 
Britannia,"  for  the  "  Fenian  murderers"  inside  to  hear.  The 
last  evening  of  their  lives  happily  was  solaced  by  the  receipt 
of  a  letter,  couched  in  kindly  and  touching  words,  and  in- 
closing one  hundred  pounds  "for  the  families  they  would 
leave  behind,"  from  the  Dowager. IMarchioness  of  Q.ueens- 
berry.  "  From  the  first,"  says  a  published  account,  "  the 
pnsoners  exhibited  a  deep,  fervid,  religious  spirit  which 
could  scarcely  have  been  surpassed." 

In  the  cold  gray  morning  of  the  23d  of  November,  1867, 
Allen,  Larkin,  and  O'Brien  were  led  out  to  die.  Such  a  con- 
course had  never  before  attended  a  Manchester  execution  as 
thronged  around  the  jail.  Long  files  of  bayonets  reached  on 
all  sides-.  A  temporary  platform  ran  some  length  at  each 
end  of  the  scaffold,  but  inside  the  prison-wall,  and  was  occu- 
pied by  detachments  of  the  72d  Highlanders,  who  stooped  be- 
hind the  masonry,  with  the  muzzles  of  the  loaded  rifles  rest- 
ing on  the  top.    Even  the  savage  crowd  hushed  for  a  moment 


394  ^^^^y  IRELAND. 

at  the  death-bell's  toll,  and  soon  the  condemned  appeared. 
Allen  came  first.  He  was  deadly  pale,  but  walked  with  firm 
and  steady  tread.  Next  came  Larkin,  greatly  overcome,  and 
trembling  with  emotion.  Last  stepped  forth  O'Brien,  whose 
firm  and  dignified  bearing  was  the  admiration  of  all  who  be- 
held liim.  Before  he  was  placed  upon  the  trap  he  moved  to 
where  his  two  comrades  stood  capped  and  pinioned,  with  fatal 
cord  around  each  neck,  and  kissed  them  lovingly.  They  were 
greatly  affected,  and  all  three  embraced  one  another  tenderly. 
The  bolt  was  drawn  ;  the  three  bodies  fell,  struggled  convul- 
sively for  a  few  minutes,  and  alF  \va3~DTer: . 

When  on  that  Saturday  morning  the  news  was  flashed  to 
Ireland,  "  Allen,  Larkin,  and  O'Brien  were  hanged  at  eight 
o'clock  in  front  of  Salford  jail,"  surprise,  dismay,  grief,  and 
rage  filled  every  breast.  JNIen  gasped,  astounded,  and  asked 
could  this  dreadful  tale  be  true.  Others,  more  violently 
moved,  went  about  with  flushed  cheek  and  darkened  brow, 
clenching  their  teeth  in  silent  passion.  Men  who  even  up  to 
this  period  had  been  more  or  less  in  conflict  with  Fenianism 
were  overpowered  by  this  blow.  For  what,  they  asked,  was 
this  deed  in  Manchester  but  an  act  of  political  vengeance, 
another  cruel  traced v  in  the  long;  strug-o-le  between  Irish  re- 
volt  and  English  power?  In  the  afternoon  came  fuller 
accounts  of  the  execution,  containing  one  sentence  which 
samg  the  Irish  people  most  keenly :  "  The  bodies  of  the  three 
7nurderers  tvere  buried  in  quicklime  in  unconsecrated  ground 
within  the  jail."  Murderers,  indeed  !  Buried  in  quicklime  !* 
Here  was  a  stroke  which  went  home, — a  barbed  and  poisoned 
arrow  that  pierced  the  heart  of  Ireland.  This  branding  of 
their  inanimate  bodies  with  infamy,  this  denial  of  Christian 

*0f  course  if  the  rescue  was  not  a  political  incident,  and  if  these  men 
were  mere  robbers  and  murderers,  this  was  the  ordinary  course.  But  to 
denj'  the  exclusively  political  character  of  the  crime  were  absurd. 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  395 

burial  in  consecrated  earth,  wounded  the  most  sensitive  feel- 
ings of  Irishmen.  Kext  day,  Sunday,  the  news  reached  the 
provinces,  and  in  hundreds  of  churches,  at  the  morning  mass, 
the  priest,  his  voice  broken  with  emotion,  asked  the  congre- 
gation to  pray  God's  mercy  on  the  souls  of  the  three  victims. 
The  answer  was  a  wail  of  grief,  and  many  wept  outright 
when  the  story  of  their  execution  was  told.  I  never  knew 
Ireland  to  be  more  deeply  moved  by  mingled  feelings  of  grief 
and  anger.  It  was  not  the  death  of  the  prisoners ;  although 
from  what  has  been  stated  their  execution  was  an  utter  sur- 
prise, and  deemed  a  frightful  severity.  When  men,  arms  in 
hand,  attempt  such  a  deed  as  Kelly's  rescue,  they  must  be 
prepared  and  content  to  abide  the  penalty,  though  it  be  death 
itself.  It  was  the  conviction  that  these  men,  innocent  or 
guilty,  had  not  had  a  fair  trial,  that  the  cause  of  Irish  nation- 
ality was  meant  to  be  struck  at  and  humiliated  in  their  per- 
sons, and,  above  all,  the  attempt  to  class  them  as  vulgar  mur- 
derers, not  political  culprits,  and  to  oiFer  indignity  to  their 
remains,  that  led  to  the  wondrous  upheaval  of  Irish  feeling 
which  now  startled  the  empire. 

All  over  Ireland  announcements  appeared  that  funeral 
processions  commemorative  of  the  "  ]\[anchester  Martyrs" 
would  be  held.  The  selection  of  funeral  displays  rather 
than  public  meetings  marked  exactly  the  peculiar  feature  of 
the  Manchester  proceedings  which  it  was  intended  to  resent. 
Cork  led  the  way  by  announcing  a  monster  demonstration 
for  the  1st  of  December ;  and  on  that  day  most  of  the  cities 
and  towns  in  the  South  of  Ireland  witnessed  the  singular 
spectacle  of  "funerals" — hearses,  mourners,  craped  banners, 
and  muffled  drums — where  there  were  no  dead.  The  8th  of 
December  was  fixed  for  the  metropolitan  display,  as  well  as 
for  some  twenty  or  thirty  others  throughout  the  island.  John 
Martin  hurried  up  to  Dublin  to  lead  the  procession  there. 
The  O'Donoghue  was  announced  to  head  the  demonstration 


396  JV£»r  IRELAND. 

in  "Killarney.  For  the  first  time  during  years  the  distinction 
between  Fenian  and  non-Fenian  Nationalists  seemed  to  dis- 
appear, and  the  national  or  popular  element  came  unitedly 
and  in  full  force  to  the  front.  The  Dublin  procession  was  a 
marvellous  display.  The  day  was  cold,  wet,  and  gloomy; 
yet  it  was  computed  that  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  per- 
sons participated  in  the  demonstration,  sixty  thousand  of 
them  marching  in  line  over  a  route  some  three  or  four  miles 
in  length.  As  the  three  hearses,  bearing  the  names  of  the 
executed  men,  passed  through  the  streets,  the  multitudes  that 
lined  the  way  fell  on  their  knees,  every  head  was  bared,  and 
not  a  sound  -was  heard  save  the  solemn  notes  of  the  "  Dead 
March  in  Saul"  from  the  bauds,  or  the  sobs  that  burst  occa- 
sionally from  the  crowd.  At  the  cemetery-gate  the  proces- 
sionists formed  into  a  vast  assemblage,  which  was  addressed 
by  ]Mr.  INIartin  in  feeling  and  forcible  language,  expressive  of 
the  national  sentiment  on  the  Manchester  execution.  At  the 
close,  once  more  all  heads  were  bared,  a  prayer  was  offered, 
and  the  mourning  thousands  peacefully  sought  their  homes. 

The  section  of  the  press  that  had  goaded  the  Government 
to  extremities  at  ISIanchester,  by  demands  for  what  they 
designated  a  policy  of  "vigor,"  now  called  loudly  for  the 
suppression  of  these  funerals  as  "seditious  demonstrations," 
nay,  "  rampant  exhibitions  of  sympathy  with  murder."  On 
the  12th  of  December,  four  days  after  the  Dublin  ])rocession, 
a  viceregal  proclamation  was  issued  declaring  the  funerals  to 
be  illegal,  and  calling  on  all  magistrates  and  peace  officers  to 
suppress  the  same.  Within  two  days  summonses  were  issued 
against  ISIr.  John  Martin  and  other  members  of  the  Dublin 
funeral  committee.  The  accused  were  committed  for  trial  at 
the  Commission  to  open  on  the  10th  of  February,  18G8,  bail 
being  taken  for  their  ajipearance.  Twelve  days  subsequently 
a  second  stroke  was  dealt  at  the  leaders  of  the  demonstration ; 
and  I,  having  marched  at  its  head,  arm-in-arm  M'ith  Mr. 


THE  SCAFFOLD   AND    THE   CELL.  3^7 

Martin,  found  myself  now  called  upon  to  take  my  place  by 

his  side  in  the  dock.  /  ~~""'- • 

The  Manchester  scene  called  forth  the  stormiest  passion 
and  fiercest  invective  in  the  Irish  national  press.  The  exe- 
cution Avas  denounced  as  "judicial  murder."  "The  jailer 
and  the  hangman"  were  declared  to  be  "  now  the  twin  guard- 
ians of  British  rule  in  Ireland."  My  own  journals  were 
among  the  most  violent  in  expression  of  the  prevalent  emo- 
tion. In  poem,  prose,  and  picture  we  held  up  the  tragic 
deed  as  a  crime,  and  called  upon  the  Irish  people  to  encounter 
the  attempt  to  brand  the  victims  as  "  murderers"  with  dem- 
onstrations of  sorrow  for  their  fate  and  admiration  for  their 
heroism.  Towards  the  close  of  December  rumors  went  round 
that  the  work  of  the  approaching  Commission  was  to  be 
swelled,  not  alone  by  State  trials  for  seditious  funeral  pro- 
cessions, but  by  press  prosecutions  also.  In  the  interval 
between  my  commitment  and  the  opening  of  the  Commission 
business  called  me  to  Paris.  One  night  while  there  I  was 
roused  out  of  bed  by  a  telegram  from  Dublin,  calling  on  me 
to  start  for  home  instantly,  or  a  warrant  would  be  issued  for 
my  arrest,  on  a  prosecution  against  the  Weekly  News.  Of 
this  journal  I  was  the  proprietor,  but  not  the  editor.  Strange 
to  say,  up  to  that  moment  I  had  not  read  what  had  been 
written  in  it  on  the  subject  of  the  executions,  so  engrossed 
was  I,  in  the  midst  of  the  prevailing  excitement,  with  the 
conduct  of  the  Nation,  the  direction  of  which  journal  lay  in 
my  own  hands.  I  hastened  home,  and  arrived  barely  in  time 
to  present  myself  in  court.  I  heard  the  articles  read  against 
me ;  owned  in  my  heart  that  they  were  "  pretty  strong ;"  but 
so  deeply  did  I  feel  upon  that  sad  business  that  I  would  have 
gone  to  the  scaiFold  itself,  if  need  were,  rather  than  flinch  as 
the  issue  was  now  raised.  Once  again  I  was  committed  for 
trial ;  and  on  the  loth  of  February,  surrendering  to  my  bail, 
I  stood  at  the  bar  in  Green  Street  to  answer  to  the  Queen  for 

34 


398  iV^EIF  IRELAND. 

my  conduct  as  a  journalist.  The  best  exertions  of  the  able 
and  gifted  gentlemen  who  acted  as  my  counsel  were  of  no 
avail.  After  a  protracted  trial,  I  was  found  guilty,  sentence 
being  deferred  pending  the  result  of  the  second  prosecution. 
On  Thursday  morning,  the  20th  of  February,  1868,  "John 
Martin,  Alexander  M.  Sullivan,  James  J.  Lalor,  and  Thomas 
Bracken"  stood  at  the  bar  arraigned  for  that  they,  "  being 
malicious,  seditious,  and  ill-disposed  persons,  and  intending 
to  disturb  the  peace  and  tranquillity  of  the  realm,"  and  so 
forth,  did  assemble  seditiously.  We  joined  in  our  challenges, 
and  took  trial  together.  Mr.  Lalor  and  Mr.  Bracken  were 
defended  by  counsel ;  the  speech  of  Mr.  Michael  Crean  for 
the  former  being;  an  exceedingly  able  amL-Conclusive  argu- 
ment  against  an  attempt  in  one  of  the  counts  of  the  indict- 
ment to  constitute  the  national  _emblem  aTid  color  of  Ireland 
a  "party"  badge,  and  make  the  wearing  of  thjL green  a  crime. 
Mr.  Martin  and  I,  dispensing,  on  many  grounds,  with  pro- 
fessional advocacy,  had  decided  to  speak  for  ourselves,  and 
it  was  privately  arranged  between  us  that  he  should  take 
precedence.  When,  however,  the  evidence  had  closed,  and 
the  moment  came  for  him  to  rise,  his  strength  seemed  to  fail 
him  ;  he  entreated  me  to  take  his  place,  and  to  give  him  until 
morning  for  rest  and  preparation.  Of  course  I  obeyed.  His 
simplest  wish  was  law  to  me.  For  years  we  had  worked  side 
by  side  in  public  life;  side  by  side  in  peril  are  now.  With 
heavy  heart  I  reflected  that  his  feeble  frame  would  never 
stand  a  second  term  of  prison  punishment.  Yes,  I  would 
speak,  and  on  that  instant  I  To  save  his  life,  mayhap,  the 
precious  life  of  the  friend  I  loved,  to  defend  my  own  char- 
acter and  vindicate  my  principles,  I  would  fling  all  my  soul 
into  one  supreme  effort  to  move  that  jury  with  the  justice  of 
our  cause.  I  rose,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  stood  silent, 
scarcely  able  to  find  utterance.  I  could  not  only  feel  but 
hear  the  throbbing  of  my  heart.     I  painfully  realized  all 


THE  SCAFFOLD   AND    THE   CELL.  399 

the  danger  and  responsibility  of  my  position.  The  court  was 
densely  crowded.  In  the  gallery  beyond  sat  my  wife,  my 
father,  my  brothers,  and  devoted  friends,  not  a  few  who 
would  gladly  have  taken  my  place  to  set  me  free.  The 
judges,  Mr.  Justice  Fitzgerald  and  Mr.  Baron  Dea^y,  who 
had  conducted  my  previous  trial  and  this  one  with  singular 
impartiality  and  judicial  dignity,  seemed  to  feel  for  my  em- 
barrassment, and  extended  to  me  all  indulgence  and  consider- 
ation. At  length  I  was  well  under  way ;  and  once  fairly 
started  I  was  perfectly  at  ease.  After  a  while,  inspired  rather 
than  deterred  by  the  circumstances  surrounding  me,  I  struck 
boldly  into  an  argument  upon  the  whole  ground  covered  by 
the  issuas  raised  in  the  prosecution.  As  I  went  on,  night 
fell ;  the  lamps  were  lighted.  Outside  the  building  a  crowd, 
unable  to  obtain  admittance,  filled  the  street.  Despite  the 
efforts  of  the  police, — neither  angry  nor  severe,  poor  fellows, 
to  tell  the  truth, — the  throng  inside  frequently  burst  into 
cheers,  which  the  people  outside  repeated,  knowing  only  that 
it  was  one  of  the  traversers  mIio  was  being  applauded.  I  spoke 
without  notes  or  assistance  of  any  kind,  my  mind  being  full 
of  the  case.  As  I  concluded,  feeling  very  much  like  a  man 
"shooting  Niagara,"  I  became  aware  that  a  great  roar  of 
cheering  had  broken  forth,  that  scores  of  hands  were  grasping 
at  and  clutching  me,  and  that  John  Martin  had  his  arms 
around  me.  I  was  borne  outside,  to  receive  a  thousand  felici- 
tations, and  to  hear  from  many  a  voice  the  prophecy,  "  No 
verdict." 

A  true  prophecy  it  proved  to  be.  Next  evening  the  trial 
closed.  The  jury  were  charged,  and  retired.  An  hour 
went  by,  and  another.  Still  they  came  not.  At  length  they 
return  to  ask  a  question,  the  tenor  of  which  is  adverse  to  the 
Crown.  The  crowd  wait  till  they  retire,  then  break  into 
cheers.  By  and  by  the  jury  are  sent  for.  They  "cannot 
agree,"  and  are  discharged.     "  Victory  !"  cry  the  enthusiastic 


400  -^^^'^  IRELAND. 

multitude  in  the  streets,  and  the  news  is  telegraphed  all 
over  Ireland.  Yes,  it  was  victory ;  but  not  rescue  for  me. 
Next  morning  I  came  to  the  bar  to  hear  my  sentence  under 
the  conviction  for  the  press  offence.  Mr.  Justice  Fitzgerald 
spoke  it  in  words  as  full  of  considerate  kindliness  as  on  such 
an  occasion  well  could  be.  At  the  close  of  a  brief  address, 
he  said, — 

"  I  assure  you  that  it  is  with  great,  with  deep  regret  that  it  hecomes  my 
duty  to  announce  to  you  the  sentence  of  the  law.  My  learned  colleague 
and  myself  have  considered  this  case  most  anxiously.  We  have  con- 
sidered it  with  a  view  that  if  we  erred  at  all  it  should  be  on  the  side  of 
leniency ;  but,  nothwithstanding,  the  sentence  must  be  such  as  will  for 
a  considerable  time  withdraw  you  from  public  life.  I  regret  this  the 
more  when  I  recollect  that  you  have  proved  yourself  in  this  court  a 
"man  possessed  of  eminent  ability, — an  ability  that  I  would  much  Avish 
was  exerted  in  the  same  way  in  another  cause  ;  and  not  only  that,  but  I 
am  aware  from  the  public  prints  that  you  have  devoted  your  time,  or  at 
least  a  considerable  portion  of  it,  and  the  talents  with  which  you  are 
gifted,  to  the  public  service,  to  advance  the  cause  of  education  and  pro- 
mote the  claims  of  charity.  But,  notwithstanding,  we  have  a  duty  to 
perform  to  the  public  for  the  repression  of  similar  offences.  It  is  not 
my  wish  or  desire  to  proloijg  this  scene,  which  to  me  is  extremely  pain- 
ful, nor  to  say  one  word  that  would  give  unnecessary  offence  ;  but  in  the 
simplest  language  to  announce  to  you  tlie  sentence  of  the  law.  That 
sentence  is  that  you  be  imprisoned  for  a  period  of  six  calendar  months 
from  the  present  time  ;  and  further  that  you  at  the  end  of  that  time 
give  security,  yourself  in  five  hundred  pounds  and  two  sureties  in  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  each,  to  be  of  good  behavior  for  a  period  of 
two  years;  and  in  default  of  such  security  being  given,  that  you  be 
further  imprisoned  for  a  second  period  of  six  calendar  months." 

I  was  borne  to  the  cell  beneath  the  court,  where  I  bade 
adieu  to  my  family ;  and  a  few  hours  subsequently  I  entered 
the  ]iortals  of  Richmond  as  a  prisoner. 

As  a  prisoner !  The  judge,  when  sentencing  me,  had  al- 
luded in  kindly  spirit  to  some  labors  of  mine  in  "the  public 
service,"  as  he  expressed  it.  I  had  for  some  years  taken  an 
active  interest  and  somewhat  of  a  prominent  part  in  civic 
affairs ;  and  any  position  of  honor  or  trust  which  my  fellow- 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  401 

citizens  could  well  confer  upon  me  they  had  not  hesitated  to 
besto-\v.  Among  the  rest,  I  had  been  for  some  time  past 
elected  from  year  to  year  on  the  Board  of  Superintendence 
of  the  City  Prisons:  so  that  libund  myself  about  to  fill  a 
cell  in^ar^^aTil-over-which^I^  had  for  someyears  been  a  ruling 
authority.*  Not  even  while  I  was^  being  weighed  and 
measured,  and  having  the  color  of  my  eyes  and  hair  duly 
entered  in  the  register,  did  I  greatly  feel  the  difference  be- 
tween this  and  one  of  my  ordinary  visits  to  the  place.  It 
was  only  when,  later  on,  a  moment  came,  which  the  governor 
with  great  delicacy  put  off  as  long  as  possible, — when,  after 
"  sauntering,"  as  it  were,  to  a  cell  up-stairs,  and  having  talked 
with  me  a  good  deal  about  prison-affairs,  as  of  old,  he  at  last 
said,  "  Well,  I  must  now  say  good-by,"  and  turned  into  the 
corridor,  leading  me  behind, — when  I  heard  the  bang  of  the 
heavy  iron  door  that  shut  me  in,  and  listened  to  the  bolt  of 
the  lock  shot  through, — the  reality  of  the  situation  seemed 
suddenly  to  burst  upon  me !  I  gave  one  glance  around  the 
narrow  space,  with  its  floor  of  stone,  and  window  heavily 
barred.  What !  Was  this  only  a  dream, — a  scene  in  an 
acted  play, — or  could  it  be,  oh,  heaven !  that  to-night  at 
Belfield  Park  my  little  child  would  call  for  me  in  vain  ? 
My  wife!  ray  parents!  I  sank  upon  the  rude  prison-pallet 
and  felt  for  an  instant  as  if  ray  heart  would  break.  Sud- 
denly I  sprang  to  ray  feet.  "■  Hold  !"  I  exclaimed,  almost 
aloud:  ''is  this  ray  fortitude?  How  light  is  ray  lot,  how 
trivial  raust  my  sufferings,  mental  or  physical,  be,  compared 
with  those  borne  by  better  men,  whenever  or  wherever,  in 
any  age  or  clime,  a  struggle  for  national  liberty  is  pressed !" 
I  felt  almost  ashamed  of  my  momentary  weakness,  and  re- 


*  On  the  eve  of  the  election  for  1868,  as  my  trials  were  pending,  I  con- 
sidered it  proper  to  decline  office  for  that  year ;  but  when  the  period  of 
my  imprisonment  was  over  I  was  elected  to  my  former  place,  as  before. 
2  a  34* 


402  :\'^ir  Ireland. 

solved  to  accept  with  composure  the  penaky  I  had  incurred. 
After  all,  as  I  avowed  in  my  speech  on  the  trial,*  the  man 
who  enters  into  conflict  with  the  civil  power  is  bound  to  weigh 
the  consequences.  At  that  moment  Mr.  William  Johnson 
of  Ballykilbeg  (now  member  of  Parliament  for  Belfast),  the 
intrepid  leader  of  Ulster  Orangeism,  was  being  carried  to  the 
county  jail  of  Down  to  undergo  a  like  punishment  for  defy- 
ing an  act  of  Parliament  which  he  believed  to  be  an  infringe- 
ment of  constitutional  liberty.  AA'hy  should  I  complain  ?  He 
who  strikes  must  not  wail  if  he  is  struck  in  theconibat.      *" 

A  recently-passed  act  on*arliament  had  abolislied  all  dis- 
tinction between  misdemeanant  prisoners ;  so  that  a  public 
journalist  convicted  for  political  writings  was  classified  for 
treatment  with  the  vuigar_Jiijrd_of_crime.  This  was  a  great 
outrage.  In  my  case,  however,  everything  short  of  violent 
illegality  was  done  by  the  public  authorities  to  mitigate  such 
a  cruel  state  of  things.  Every  officer  in  the  prison,  from 
Captain  Boyd,  the  governor,  down  to  the  youngest  warder, 
strove  by  demonstrations  of  respect  and  kindliness  to  rob  my 
imprisonment  of  all  humiliation.  I  became  aware  that  Lord 
Mayo,  the  Irish  Secretary,  evinced  the  liveliest  personal  in- 
terest in  the  eiforts  to  avert  from  me  the  indignities  and 
severities  to  which  the  classification  otherwise  would  have 
subjected  me.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  M^eary  time,  a  pro- 
longed suffering.  Cellular  imprisonment,  especially  under 
"  the  solitary  system,"  as  in  my  case,  is  a  torture  to  men  of 
active  habits  and  nervous  temperament.  For  such  men  the 
cell  of  the  "  silent  system"  is  the  antechamber  of  the  lunatic 
ward.f 

*  "It  is  tbe  first  and  most  original  condition  of  society,  that  a  man 
shall  subordinate  his  public  acts  to  the  welfare  of  the  community,  or 
at  least  acknowledge  the  right  of  those  among  whom  his  lot  is  cast  to 
judge  him  on  such  an  issue  as  this.     Freely  I  acknowledge  that  right." 

f  The  rules  forbade  prisoners  to  "  whistle  or  sing."     Music  was  one 


THE  SCAFFOLD  AND    THE   CELL.  403 

On  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the  30th  of  May,  1868,  Cap- 
tain Boyd  entered  the  day-room :  he  held  an  open  letter  in 
his  hand. 

" '  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  bring  glad 
tidings  of  good  things !' "  he  exclaimed,  his  face  radiant 
with  pleasure. 

"  What  is  it,  captain  ?" 

"  The  order  for  your  release,^'  he  replied. 

Oh,  blessed  liberty!  Oh,  luxury  ineffable  of  walking 
freely  through  green  fields  and  listening  to  the  song  of 
birds ! 

Next  day  I  re-entered  the  world.  In  those  few  months 
great  changes  had  taken  place.  The  "troubled  rest  and 
ceaseless  fear"  of  the  Fenian  fever  were  all  over.  Great 
events  had  come  upon  the  scene.  A  night  of  anguish  and 
suffering  was  ended  for  Ireland.  Daylight  gleamed  in  the 
eastern  skies. 


of  the  great  charms  of  home  for  me,  and  I  longed  to  hear  some.  I  in- 
duced a  friend  to  smuggle  in  for  me  a  little  "musical  box;"  at  least  I 
begged  it  might  be  so  small  as  not  to  be  overheard  outside  my  cell. 
Unfortunately,  meaning  to  be  very  kind,  he  brought  me  a  rather  large 
one,  and  with  a  novel  mode  of  stop.  I  set  it  to  play.  Horror  of  hor- 
rors !  It  seemed  as  loud  as  Dan  Godfrey's  band  !  I  tried  to  stop  it.  In 
vain.  In  a  few  minutes  I  heard  the  warder  approaching.  What  was  to 
be  done?  I  seized  the  mischievous  thing,  and  thought  to  break  it  up. 
I  rushed  to  my  camp-bed,  and  rolled  the  instrument  in  the  bedclothes, 
as  it  went  banging  away  at  the  "Overture  to  William  Tell."  The 
warder  stopped  outside  my  cell  door. 

"  Do  you  hear  some  music,  sir  ?" 

"  Ahem!  yes — that  is,  something  like  music." 

"  It  seems  just  outside  the  walls,  sir.     What  on  earth  can  it  be?" 

"  Oh,  some  confounded  Italian  organ-grinder  is  always  in  the  neigh- 
borhood." 

"Bedad,  sir,  I  think  may-be  it's  one  of  the  city  bands  marching  out 
to  serenade  you  !" 

I  never  tried  that  musical  box  again. 


CHAPTER    XXy. 

"delenda  est  Carthago!" 

Over  the  disestablishment  of  the  Irish  Protestant  Church 
was  fought  the  last  great  battle  between  the  "  Liberal"  and 
"  Conservative"  parties  in  Ireland, — tlieir  last,  as  the  two 
combatants  who  alone  had  hitherto  contended  for  or  divided 
between  them  the  Irish  parliamentary  representation. 

Soon  afterwards,  as  we  shall  see,  a  new  issue  was  to  be 
raised ;  a  new  party  nomenclature  was  to  appear ;  a  new 
classification  to  be  adopted.  But  down  to  this  period,  with 
exceptions  that  scarcely  qualify  the  statement,  Irish  members 
of  Parliament  were  either  Liberals  or  Conservatives,  and  a 
general  election  in  Ireland  was  a  stand-up  fight  between  "  the 
Reform"  and  "the  Carlton."  The  great  struggle  of  1868, 
however,  was  destined  to  be  the  last  of  its  class. 

Although  in  the  abstract  entitled  to  be  ranked  among 
questions  of  the  first  magnitude,  the  Church  grievance,  as  it 
existed  in  1865,  had  called  forth  comparatively  little  thought 
or  attention  from  the  Irish  people.  The  subject  would  have 
been  placed  third  or  fourth  on  any  list  of  parliamentary  re- 
forms demanded  by  the  popular  voice, — the  Land  invariably 
being  fii*st.  When  in  1838  the  direct  payment  of  tithe  from 
the  Catholic  farmer  to  the  Protestant  rector  was  changed  into 
an  indirect  payment  through  or  in  the  landlord's  rent,  the 
grievance  was  adroitly  put  out  of  sight.  By  a  reform  which 
may  be  called  a  clever  piece  of  legislative  legerdemain, 
Catholic  Paddy  was  supposed  to  be  relieved  because,  in  place 
of  paying  ten  pounds  of  rent  to  the  landlord  and  one  pound 
of  tithe  to  the  rector,  he  had  to  pay  eleven  pounds  as  rent  to 
404 


''DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO !"  405 

the  landlord,  the  latter  handing  over  to  his  reverence  the  tithe 
portion,  minus  the  modest  deduction  of  twenty-five  per  cent, 
for  collection.  Henceforth  a  farmer  objecting  to  pay  this 
part  of  his  "  rent"  would  be  held  up  to  the  public  simply  as 
a  defaulting  tenant.  And  soon  the  tenants  came  to  see  that 
any  abolition  or  remission  of  the  "  tithe-rent-charge"  hence- 
forth would  mean  no  relief  whatever  to  them.  The  landlord 
would  demand  as  much  as  ever  for  the  land,  would  keep  the 
rent  at  what  it  had  been  inclusive  of  the  tithe;  and  it  was  a 
mere  question  whether  so  much  went  directly  into  the  pocket 
of  the  landlord  or  indirectly  into  that  of  the  rector. 

"  Disendowing"  the  Church,  therefore,  did  not  relieve  the 
Catholic  millions  of  Ireland  of  one  penny  paid  in  this  way; 
and  I  should  be  perplexed  to  say  whether  in  my  opinion  the 
tenant  farmers  of  Ireland  would,  on  the  whole,  have  preferred, 
as  to  this ^ca^  aspect  of  the  question,  that  disendowment  had 
been  carried  or  not.  As  it  is,  the  change  matters  little  to 
them  or  to  the  Church  :  they  pay  as  much  as  ever,  and  the 
Church  comes  financially  out  of  the  ordeal  not  a  penny  the 
worse. 

Disestablishment,  however,  was  quite  another  matter.  Even 
the  humblest  peasant  felt  the  Church  establishment  to  be  a 
standing  badge  of  conquest.  It  was  not  that  the  Irish  Catho- 
lics, like  the  English  Nonconformists,  believed  a  State  Church 
to  be  abstractly,  or  under  every  conceivable  state  of  circum- 
stances, wrong  in  itself.*     It  was  because  they  saw  that  not 

*  Nonconformist  speakers  and  writers,  unaware  of  or  losing  sight  of 
this  fact,  fall  into  frequent  errror  and  misconception  when  they  find 
Irish  Catholics  refusing  to  join  or  help  in  disendowing  and  disestablish- 
ing the  Church  in  England.  There  are  very  many  Irishmen  no  doubt 
who  are  opposed  to  State-churchism  everywhere  and  anyrohere,  as  a  matter 
of  policy  or  wisdom  ;  but  it  was  not  on  the  abstract  ground  of  anti- 
State-churchism  that  the  Irish  Catholics  as  a  body  complained  against 
and  assailed  the  Protestant  State  Church  in  Ireland.  The  real  grounds 
will  be  found  stated  in  the  text. 


406  iV£IF  IRELAND. 

aloue  the  property  of  their  Church,  bestowed  by  their  Catho- 
lic forefathers  explicitly  for  Catholic  purposes,  had  been  taken 
totally  from  them  and  handed  over  to  a  minority  of  about 
one-tenth  of  the  whole  population,  but  that  this  minority 
Avere  furthermore  constituted  a  dominant  or  ruling  caste 
to  assail  and  humiliate  them.  One  may  sjieculate  whether 
the  Irish  Catholics  would  have  greatly  concerned  themselves 
about  their  disestablishment  or  disendowment  had  the  Estab- 
lishment been  less  aggressive.  I  am  personally  aware  that  in 
parishes  where  the  Protestant  rector  had  a  bona-fide  congre- 
gation of  his  own,  and  confined  his  ministrations  to  them, — 
that  is  to  say,  where  he  neither  carried  on  nor  encouraged 
proselytizing  raids  on  the  other  communion, — he  was  fre- 
quently popular  in  the  most  cordial  sense,  and  never  in  such 
a  case  awakened  a  feeling  of  jealousy,  dislike,  or  unfriendli- 
ness in  the  breasts  of  the  Catholic  masses  around  him.  To 
these  he  was,  at  all  events,  a  local  gentleman  who  spent  money 
in  the  parish.  His  family  were  amiable  and  kindly  to  all,  and 
"  good  to  the  poor,"  without  invidious  object  in  their  charity. 
He  attended  zealously,  as  he  had  a  right  to  do,  to  his  own  co- 
religionists ;  but  he  respected  the  conscientious  convictions  of 
others.  I  could  name  several  Protestant  clergymen  of  this 
description,  whose  place  in  the  respect  and  confidence,  I  might 
say  affections,  of  the  Catholic  parishioners  was  as  high  very 
nearly  as  in  the  esteem  and  reverence  of  their  own  congrega- 
tions.* Had  the  type  been  more  prevalent,  the  Established 
Church,  though  wrong  as  ever  otherwise,  might  have  evoked 
very  little  hostility  from  the  Irish  people.  But  it  was  quite 
a  different  thing  to  see  clergy  of  the  Establishment  crowding 

*  At  the  present  moment  I  would  in%'ite  any  one  wlio  may  be  inclined 
to  doubt  this  statement  to  test  the  feelings  of  the  Catholics  of  Kenmare 
as  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  McCutcheon,  or  of  the  Catholics  of  Bantry  as  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Faulkiner,  rectors  respectively  of  those  two  parishes  in  my 
native  district. 


"DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO!"  407 

into  associations  and  societies  founded  for  the  purpose  of  pros- 
elytizing Catholic  adults  or  children,  and  constituting  them- 
selves individual  agents  of  such  organizations  in  their  several 
localities.  In  brief,  had  the  endowed  and  established  mi- 
nority not  pursued  a  course  of  provocative  warfare  against  the 
Church  of  the  millions,  and  turned  against  these  millions 
the  funds  which,  as  they  sullenly  reflected,  once  had  been 
theirs,  the  Irish  Establishment  might  have  gone  on  far  into 
the  future  without  molestation  or  change  as  far  as  they  were 
concerned. 

Even  in  the  estimation  of  the  Catholic  bishops  this  Church 
question  did  not,  previous  to  1865,  occupy  as  important  a 
place,  was  certainly  not  deemed  as  exigent  by  them,  as  the 
Education  question.  On  this  latter  subject,  from  1859  to 
1864  they  had  organized  a  series  of  important  diocesan  meet- 
ings ;  throughout  the  same  period  they  had  raised  the  issue  at 
every  election,  and  publicly  pledged  themselves  to  concentrate 
all  their  energies  on  school  and  university  reform,  as  the  first 
and  most  pressing  want  of  the  time.  Yet  when,  on  the  30th 
of  December,  1864,  "  the  National  Association  of  Ireland" 
was  founded,  under  the  auspices  of  his  Eminence  Cardinal 
Cullen  and  other  leading  prelates,  the  Education  question,  to 
the  general  surprise,  was  pushed  to  the  rear,  and  Disestab- 
lishment placed  in  the  forefront  of  the  new  agitation. 

What  did  this  mean  ? 

For  some  time  previously  private  negotiations,  or  "  inter- 
change of  views,"  had  been  going  on  between  leading  mem- 
bers of  the  Liberation  Society  and  certain  prominent  English 
Liberals  on  the  one  hand,  and  some  Irish  ecclesiastical  and 
lay  politicians  on  the  other,  with  a  view  to  restoring  cordial 
relations,  or  effecting  a  new  alliance,  between  Irish  and  Eng- 
lish Liberalism.  In  Ireland  the  disruption  of  1852  had  never 
been  healed.  The  "  Brass  Band"  of  Keogh  and  Sadleir  had 
made  the  name  of  Whig-Liberal  odious  in  popular  estima- 


408  ^^^  IRELAND. 

tion ;  tliough  most  of  the  bishops  long  clung  to  the  old  ways, 
and  seemed  to  think  "  Catholic  appointments"  the  be-all  and 
end-all  of  Irish  policy.  But  by  1864  even  the  bishops  had 
broken  with  the  Liberal  ministry.  The  strongly  anti-Papal 
policy  of  Lord  Palmerston  had  greatly  incensed  Irish  Catho- 
lics ;  and  the  bitter  resistance  offered  by  his  administration 
to  the  agitation  for  denominational  education  which  s[)rang 
up  in  1860  completed  the  estrangement  between  the  Liberal 
party  and  the  Irish  prelates.  AVhat  with  this  antagonism 
and  its  paralyzing  results,  and  what  with  the  ominous  dis- 
appearance of  all  hope  or  faith  or  interest  in  constitutional 
agitation  on  the  part  of  the  Irish  masses,  a  state  of  deadlock 
prevailed  in  Irish  politics.  In  the  autumn  of  1864,  however, 
an  endeavor  was  made  to  bring  about  a  rapprochement  between 
the  bishops  and  that  section  of  the  English  Liberals  of  whom 
Mr.  Bright  was  the  representative  and  leader.  To  what  end, 
it  was  asked,  should  a  waste  of  energy  be  continued  ?  Why 
strive  at  cross-purposes  over  denominational  education,  on 
which  English  Liberals  and  Irish  Catholics  could  not  agree? 
Why  not  postpone  such  an  issue  until  questions  upon  which 
admittedly  they  could  pull  together  had  first  been  disposed 
of?  From  various  quarters,  Irish  and  English,  the  bishops 
were  urged  to  establish  a  great  popular  organization  for  effect- 
ing such  reforms  as  the  allied  forces  of  English  and  Irish 
Liberalism  might  combine  to  win. 

Vainly  would  these  appeals  have  reached  the  Irish  shore 
— vainly  as  to  any  effect  on  the  popular  mind — had  it  not 
been  for  an  agency  of  conciliation  which  had  at  this  time  made 
itself  felt  by  most  thoughtful  Irishmen.  In  the  press  of 
England  the  Irish  people  had  long  been  accustomed  to  en- 
counter an  unforgiving  foe.  With  much  surprise  they  saw 
a  new  daily  journal  started  in  the  imperial  metropolis,  a  lead- 
ing feature  in  which  seemed  to  be  a  fair,  a  just,  a  kindly  and 
sympathetic  treatment  of  Ireland  and  the  Irish  people.    Even 


''DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO!"  409 

where  it  dissented  from  Irish  projects  or  censured  Irish  faults, 
it  did  so  in  a  spii'it  of  honest  friendliness  that  went  home  to 
every  impartial  mind.  This  was  to  us  almost  incompre- 
hensible. The  thing  was  so  new,  so  unlike  all  we  had  been 
accustomed  to,  that  we  could  hardly  realize  it.  For  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  began  to  adequately  estimate  how  long 
a  way  a  little  genuine  and  honest  sympathy  goes  with  the 
Irish  people.  One  newspaper — the  3Iorning  Star — had  in  a 
few  years  created  an  impression  which  I  once  would  have 
deemed  impossible  to  be  effected.  That  newspaper  is  gone ; 
but  this  I  can  affirm,  that  the  men  who  labored  in  its  pages 
accomplished  a  service  the  magnitude  of  which  was  fully 
known  only  to  those  who  were  behind  the  scenes  in  Irish 
politics.  They  did  not  indeed  wholly  bridge  over  the  chasm 
of  hatred  which  gaped  dark  and  wide  between  Ireland  and 
England ;  but  they  laid  the  foundations  for  a  work  which  hap- 
pier times  may  perhaps  see  honorably  completed.  From  the 
period  of  their  efforts  may  be  dated  the  beginning  of  those 
friendly  relations  between  the  Irish  and  English  working- 
classes  in  some  of  the  cities  and  towns  of  Great  Britain 
which  is  noticeable  in  these  later  days,  and  which  is  so 
marked  in  contrast  to  the  hostility  of  previous  times.  Facts 
within  my  own  knowledge  and  experience  justify  me  in  class- 
ing the  influence  of  that  short-lived  English  newspaper  as 
one  of  the  foremost  agencies  in  a  notable  change  of  Irish 
feeling  and  opinion. 

There  seemed  many  reasons  why  the  Irish  bishops  and 
clergy  should  make  some  such  movement  as  that  to  which 
they  were  urged.  By  this  time  even  those  among  them  who 
were  most  responsible  for  the  destruction  of  the  tenant-right 
organization  in  1852  had  come  to  mourn  that  achievement  as 
a  lamentable  and  most  disastrous  error.  Gladly  would  they 
now  restore  what  they  had  then  pulled  down.  But  where 
now  were  thev  to  find  a  man  whom  they  could  trust,  and 

35 


410  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

whom  the  people  would  follow,  as  a  national  leader?  Gavan 
Dufiy  was  in  exile,  and  George  Henry  Moore,  refusing  every 
compromise,  had  quitted  polities  for  the  time,  angered,  embit- 
tered, and  implacable.  One  man  of  ecjual  repute  with  these, 
though  wanting  their  experience  of  parliamentary  politics, 
there  still  remained:  Mr.  John  B.  Dillon.  In  the  movements 
of  1843  and  1848,  as  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter,  Mr. 
Dillon  had  played  a  conspicuous  part.*  By  friend  and  foe  he 
was  esteemed  for  his  many  noble  qualities.  In  1856,  with  the 
tacit  assent  of  the  Government,  he  returned  from  exile,  and, 
utterly  eschewing  politics,  resnmed  his  professional  avocations. 
It  was  only  in  1863  he  was  indnced  by  considerable  persua- 
sion to  re-enter  public  life,  so  far  as  to  allow  himself  to  be 
elected  to  the  Dublin  Municipal  Council.  In  the  autumn  of 
1864  he  was  strongly  pressed,  and  he  eventually  consented, 
to  accept  the  leadership  of  such  an  Irish  movement  as  has 
been  above  referred  to, — one  which  would  enjoy  the  patron- 
age of  the  Catholic  bishops  and  receive  the  co-operation  of 
the  Englisli  Radicals. 

The  two  Irishmen,  however,  who  most  largely  contributed 
to  the  great  purpose  of  Disestiiblishment  were  Mr.  W.  J. 
O'Neill  Daunt  of  Kilcascan  Castle,  county  Cork,  and  Sir 
John  Gray,  M.P.,  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  Freeman's 
Journal,  the  leading  daily  organ  of  popular  opinion  in  Ire- 

*  In  July,  1848,  at  one  of  the  secret  councils  of  the  Young  Ireland 
chiefs, — almost  the  last  they  held  before  the  ill-fated  "rising," — Dillon, 
grave,  dignified,  and  thoughtful  as  usual,  listened  calmly  to  the  debate. 
"When  it  came  to  his  turn  to  speak  he  most  strongly  opposed  a  resort  to 
arms  under  the  circumstances  of  the  time.  At  this  a  feather-headed 
enthusiast  of  the  party  flared  up  wildly,  and  spoke  of  Dillon's  sober 
warning  as  "timorous  shrinking."  He  was  answered  only  by  a  sorrow- 
ful smile  from  the  brave  man  who  a  week  after  was  on  the  hill-side  at 
Killenaule  sword  in  hand  (and  for  eight  years  subsequently  was  an 
exile),  while  the  braggart  subsided  at  the  first  whisper  of  danger  and 
lay  still  till  the  storm  blew  over. 


^'DELESDA   EST  CARTHAGO!"  411 

land.  Mr.  Daunt  indeed  might  be  called  the  father  of  the 
movement  in  Ireland.  For  nearly  half  a  century  he  had 
been  associated  in  the  great  political  efforts  of  the  time,  and 
was  one  of  the  most  widely  esteemed  and  respected  of  Irish 
popular  leaders.  At  an  early  age  he  entered  Irish  politics, 
and  while  yet  a  young  man  became  quite  a  prominent  figure 
in  the  Repeal  Association.  He  devoted  himself  to  literature, 
and  was  the  author  of  several  novels,  chiefly  illustrative  of 
Irish  social  and  political  life.  From  1845  to  1860  he  took 
little  or  no  part  in  political  affairs;  but  in  1861  he  com- 
menced, almost  single-handed,  to  arouse  public  opinion 
against  the  Irish  State  Church.  He  became  an  active  cor- 
respondent of  Mr.  Carvell  Williams,  Secretary  of  the  Liber- 
ation Society,  and  in  conjunction  with  that  gentleman,  in  a 
large  degree,  directed  the  course  of  the  agitation  from  the 
beginning  to  the  close. 

Sir  John  Gray,  M.P.,  whose  "Irish  Church  Commission"  * 
may  be  said  to  have  rendered  Disestablishment  inevitable, 
had  filled  a  leading  position  and  played  an  active  part  in 
Irish  politics  for  more  than  thirty  years  previously.  He  was 
a  Protestant  in  religion,  a  Repealer  and  Liberal  in  politics. 
He  was  one  of  the  State  prisoners  (along  with  O'Connell)  in 
1844,  and  fought  in  the  forefront  of  the  Tenant  League 
campaign  from  1850  to  1856.  To  the  Irish  metropolis,  over 
the  civic  affairs  of  which  he  virtually  ruled  for  twenty  years, 
he  was  a  public  benefactor.  When  he  espoused  a  cause,  he 
served  it  with  all  his  heart.  Immediately  on  his  election  for 
Kilkenny  city  in  1865  he  flung  himself  into  the  agitatioil 
for  Disestablishment;  and  assuredly  never  did  public  man 
devote  himself  with  more  indefatigable  energy  to  a  public 

*  An  exhaustive  and  exceedingly  able  series  of  reports  on  the  history, 
position,  revenues,  organization,  and  congregational  strength  of  the 
Established  Church  in  Ireland,  which  he  issued  from  time  to  time  in  the 
Freeman'' s  Journal. 


412  ^'^W  IRELAND. 

question  than  he  did  at  this  important  crisis  to  the  cause  of 
religious  equahty.* 

It  was  a  hazardous  experiment  to  attempt  the  renewal  of 
parliamentary  agitation  in  Ireland  at  the  time.  Tlie  Fenian 
leaders  had,  as  we  have  seen,  proclaimed  it  a  cardinal  point 
of  doctrine  and  practice  that  legal  or  constitutional  eiforts 
were  "  demoralizing"  and  must  not  be  allowed.  Thev  had 
stormed  platforms  and  dispersed  meetings  in  assertion  of  this 
view.  The  Orangemen,  too,  had  to  be  taken  into  account  on 
this  occasion.  When  it  was  announced  that  the  new  associa- 
tion was  to  be  inaugurated  at  a  public  meeting  convened  by 
the  Lord  JNIayor,  threats  came  from  the  opjiosite  poles  of  po- 
litical passion ;  and  it  seemed  quite  uncertain  whether  a  Fe- 
nian riot,  or  an  Orange  riot,  or  an  Orange- Fenian  riot,  was 
to  break  up  the  demonstration.  On  the  28th  of  December 
the  Grand  Orange  Lodge  of  Ireland  held  a  special  sitting  to 
express  their  condemnation  of  the  proposed  meeting,  and  to 
denounce  the  conduct  of  the  Lord  Mayor  in  convening  it. 
They  flung  in  his  face  his  oath  of  office  as  a  Catholic,  in 
which  the  following  passage  occurred  : 

"  I  do  hereby  disclaim,  disavow,  and  solemnly  abjure  any  intention  to 
subvert  the  present  Church  Establishment  as  settled  by  law  within  this 
realm  ;  and  I  do  solemnly  swear  that  I  never  will  exercise  any  privi- 
lege to  which  I  am  or  may  become  entitled  to  disturb  or  weaken  the 
Protestant  religion  or  Protestant  Government  in  the  United  Kingdom." 

From  the  other  quarter,  the  Fenian  camp,  came  the  sub- 
joined   handbill,  distributed    in    thousands  throughout    the 

tity : 

"  No  Surrender. 

"  Nationalists, — An  attempt  at  a  revival  of  the  slavish  organization 
that  leaves  you  bondsmen  and  whining  slaves  to-day  is  about  being  tried 
on  in  Ireland  once  more  by  a  clique  of  un-God-fearing  [^sic],  place-hunt- 
ing, cowardly  political  agitators  composed  of  rack-renting  landlords, 

*  Sir  John  Gray  died  in  1876.  His  loss  was  heartily  regretted  by 
men  of  every  class  and  party  in  Irish  public  life. 


'^DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO!"  413 

briefless  barristers,  anti-Irisb  bishops,  parish  priests,  curates,  and  hire- 
ling, renegade,  perjured  press-men.  "Will  you,  eighteen  thousai^d  Dublin 
Nationalists,  tolerate  this  West-British  faction  to  demoralize  your  man- 
hood again  ?  Never  !  '  Put  your  trust  in  God,  my  boys,  and  keep  your 
powder  dry.'  " 

Whether  it  was  that  the  Orangemen  trusted  to  the  Fenians 
to  do  the  work,  while  the  Fenians  relied  on  the  Orangemen 
for  the  duty,  was  never  clearly  explained,  but,  strange  to  say, 
the  meeting  was  held  without  let  or  hindrance,  disorder  or 
disturbance.  The  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Cullen  proposed  the  first 
resolution,  declaring  war  against  the  Establishment.  The 
most  important  incident  of  the  day,  however,  was  the  read- 
ing of  the  subjoined  letter,  which  laid  down  the  terms  of 
the  alliance  that  eventually  led  to  the  overthrow  of  the  State 
Church  in  Ireland : 

"  EocHDALE,  December  23, 1864. 

"  My  dear  Lord  Mayor, 

"  I  have  to  thank  your  committee  for  their  friendly  invitation  to  their 
approaching  meeting,  although  I  shall  not  be  able  to  avail  myself  of  it. 
I  am  glad  to  see  that  an  effort  is  to  be  made  to  force  on  some  political 
advance  in  your  country.  The  objects  you  aim  at  are  good,  and  I  hope 
you  may  succeed.  On  the  question  of  landlord  and  tenant  I  think  you 
should  go  farther  and  seek  to  do  more.  What  you  want  in  Ireland  is  to 
break  down  the  laws  of  primogeniture  and  entail,  so  that  in  course  of 
time  by  a  gradual  and  just  process  the  Irish  people  may  become  the 
possessors  of  the  soil  of  Ireland.  A  legal  security  for  tenants'  improve- 
ments will  be  of  great  value,  but  the  true  remedy  for  your  great  griev- 
ance is  to  base  the  laws  which  alFect  the  land  upon  sound  principles  of 
political  economy.  With  regard  to  the  State  Church,  that  is  an  insti- 
tution so  evil  and  so  odious  under  the  circumstances  of  your  country 
that  it  makes  one  almost  hopeless  of  Irish  freedom  from  it  that  Irishmen 
have  borne  it  so  long.  The  whole  Liberal  party  in  Great  Britain  will 
doubtless  join  with  you  in  demanding  the  removal  of  a  wrong  which  has 
no  equal  in  the  character  of  a  national  insult  in  any  other  civilized  and 
Christian  country  in  the  world.  If  the  popular  party  in  Ireland  would 
adopt  as  its  policy  '  Free  Land  and  Free  Church,'  and  would  unite  with 
the  popular  party  in  England  and  Scotland  for  the  advance  of  liberal 
measures,  and  especially  for  the  promotion  of  an  honest  amendment  of 
the  representation,  I  am  confident  that  great  and  beneiicial  changes 

35* 


414  ^"EW  IRELAND. 

might  be  made  within  a  few  years.  We  have  on  our  side  numbers  and 
opinion;. but  we  want  a  more  distinct  policy  and  a  better  organization  ; 
and  these,  I  hope,  to  some  extent,  your  meeting  may  supply. 

"  Yours  very  truly,  JoHX  Bright." 

The  terms  which  this  letter  so  formally  proposed  were 
fully  accepted  by  those  to  whom  the  oifer  was  made.  The 
National  Association  of  Ireland  adopted  "  Free  Land  and 
Free  Church"  as  its  policy.  But  only  under  the  chastening 
influences  of  adversity  were  the  parliamentary  chiefs  of  Eng- 
lish Liberalism  brought  to  embrace  it  as  theirs.  It  was  only 
after  they  had  been  stripped  of  power  and  thrust  from  office, 
and  had  borne  the  bitterness  of  many  a  defeat,  that  misfor- 
tune eventually  led  them  to  discover  in  Disestablishment  a 
way  to  victory,  honor,  and  fame. 

The  House  of  Commons  had  long;  been  familiar  with  the 
Irish  Church  motion,  which,  in  one  shape  or  another,  made 
its  appearance  from  time  to  time.  The  English  Nonconform- 
ists, under  Mr.  Miall  or  Mr.  Dillwyn,  aided  by  the  Irish 
Catholic  Liberals,  had  their  occasional  field-day  on  the  sub- 
ject. Up  to  1865  only  a  v'ery  languid  interest  was  excited 
by  these  efforts ;  and  the  utmost  that  could  be  extracted  from 
even  the  most  friendly  administration  was  an  occasional  civil 
word,  or  an  oracular  reference  to  what  might  perchance  be 
possible  in  the  paulo-post-future  of  British  politics.  On  the 
28th  of  March,  1805,  on  a  resolution  offered  by  Mr.  Dill- 
wyn, there  ensued  a  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons,  in 
the  course  of  which  appeared  the  first  faint  gleam  of  what  was 
dawning  on  Mr.  Gladstone's  mind.  The  Government,  speak- 
ing tiirough  Sir  George  Grey,  repelled  the  motion  decisively 
enough,  but  Mr.  Gladstone,  then  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
changed  the  "  never"  of  previous  years  into  a  significant  "  not 
yet."  The  Irish  Church  motion  of  1866,  moved  on  the  10th 
of  April  by  Sir  John  Gray,  brought  out  the  fact  that  the  ad- 
ministration had  taken  a  few  paces  forward  on  the  subject. 


"DELENDA    EST   CARTHAGO!"  415 

On  this  occasion  the  Government  did  not  exactly  oppose  the 
motion,  though  they  did  not  accede  to  it.  Mr.  Chichester 
Fortescue,  the  Irish  Chief  Secretary,  improved  somewhat 
upon  ]Mr.  Gladstone's  "  not  yet"  by  wishing  the  cause  of  Dis- 
establishment "  Godspeed."  Two  months  later  on — in  June, 
1866 — the  Liberal  party  was  not  merely  defeated  but  wrecked ; 
the  K.ussell-Gladstone  ministry,  deserted  and  assailed  by  the 
reactionary  Whig  section  of  their  followers  (known  through- 
out the  incident  as  the  "  Adullamite  Cave"),  fell  from  power, 
and  a  Conservative  administration,  under  Lord  Derby  as 
Premier,  and  Mr.  Disraeli  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
assumed  the  seals  of  office. 

Meanwhile,  the  Irish  "National  A&sociation"  was  not  a 
success.  Although  supported  by  a  great  array  of  episcopal 
power,  it  never  in  any  marked  degree  attracted  })opular  sym- 
pathy or  support.  Public  feeling  in  Ireland  was  strongly  in 
favor  of  the  objects  it  had  proposed ;  but  the  objection  to 
fusing  with  the  English  Whig-Liberal  party  for  any  object 
seemed  all  but  insuperable.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  no  doubt  fo- 
vorably  regarded  ;  but  Mr.  Lowe  was  more  than  mistrusted, 
while  Earl  Russell,  as  the  author  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Titles 
Act,  was  the  object  of  downright  hostility.  There  was,  how- 
ever, one  man  confessedly  among  English  Liberals  whom  no 
one  could  call  a  Whig,  and  whom  all  admired  for  his  sterling 
independence;  a  man  who  stood  almost  alone  among  the 
leading  English  orators  and  statesmen  of  his  time  in  this, 
that  when  his  voice  was  raised  to  denounce  oppression  and 
wrong,  wherever  prevailing,  he  did  not  shrink  from  including 
Ireland  in  the  scope  of  his  sympathies.  That  man  was  John 
Bright.  In  the  summer  of  1866  there  occurred  to  Mr.  J.  B. 
Dillon  the  happy  thought  of  entertaining  Mr.  Bright  at 
a  national  banquet  in  Dublin.  On  the  21st  of  August  a 
formal  and  public  invitation  signed  by  twenty-three  of  the 
Irish  members  was  forwarded  to  Mr.  Bright,  to  which  on 


416  iV^rjr  IRELAND. 

the  1st  of  September  he  returned  an  answer  accepting  the 
proposed  compliment.  No  other  project  could  have  been 
devised  which  at  the  time  would  have  rallied  or  reassembled 
to  the  same  extent  the  hitherto  divided  and  hostile  elements 
of  Irish  popular  politics ;  yet  at  first  it  seemed  a  hazardous 
experiment.  Not  without  some  doubts  and  misgivings  were 
the  circulars  issued  which  convened  a  private  conference  to 
consider  the  matter  at  the  Imperial  Hotel  in  Dublin.  The 
response,  however,  was  more  than  encouraging.  All  sections 
of  the  Irish  popular  party  cordially  concurred  in  the  proposal. 
In  the  course  of  thirty  years'  experience  of  Irish  politics,  I 
never  knew  anything  to  exceed  the  personal  bitterness  of  lan- 
guage which  the  proposal  to  fete  John  Bright  called  forth  in 
the  Irish  Conservative  journals.  Not  only  was  he  the  object 
of  the  fiercest  invective,  but  a  very  palpable  endeavor  was 
made  to  excite  against  him  pereonal  violence.  In  the  Gov- 
ernment organs — Lord  Derby  had  come  into  office  in  June — 
there  was  a  continuous  effort  to  set  the  Fenians  at  the  Bright 
banquet  and  induce  them  to  break  it  up.  To  many  of  the 
committee  this  seemed  no  insignificant  peril ;  and  their  fears 
were  increased  a  hundredfold  by  a  lamentable  event  which  for 
a  time  threatened  to  overwhelm  the  project.  This  was  the 
death,  after  barely  a  few  days'  illness,  of  Mr.  Dillon,  the 
moving  spirit  of  the  whole  proceeding.  He  was  known  to 
have  considerable  influence  with  the  Fenian  party,  or  rather 
it  was  well  known  that  most  of  the  leaders  and  nearly  all  the 
"rank  and  file"  of  that  party  shared  the  feelings  of  respect  and 
affection  in  which  he  was  held  by  the  bulk  of  his  countrymen. 
He  himself  had  not  been  free  from  uneasiness  as  to  attempts 
at  disturbance ;  and  now  that  he  was  gone  the  probabilities 
of  such  a  misfortune  were  greatly  increased.  I  did  not  share 
these  apprehensions  as  regards  any  serious  interference  by 
Fenians ;  but  I  did  fully  expect  that,  incited  by  the  extreme- 
ascendency  newspapers,  persons  of  a  different  stamp  would 


"DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO!"  417 

purchase  tickets  with  a  view  so  to  conduct  themselves  at  the 
banquet  as  to  mar  its  effect  and  give  the  much-desired  pretext 
for  declaring  it  a  failure.  That  some  open  insult  or  affront 
would  be  offered  to  Mr.  Bright  by  such  emissaries,  I  as  well 
as  my  colleagues  on  the  committee  felt  quite  convinced.  Up 
to  the  decease  of  Mr.  Dillon  I  had  not  taken  any  very  special 
or  prominent  part  in  the  preparations,  but  for  many  reasons 
I  now  undertook  the  chief  responsibility  for  the  arrangements 
within  the  banquet-room,  on  the  sole  condition  that  I  should 
be  joined  by  two  friends  whom  I  selected,  and  that  we  should 
be  free  to  take  such  steps  as  we  might  deem  requisite  to  main- 
tain order.  This  being  settled,  I  took  good  care  to  diffuse  in 
the  proper  quarters  a  notification  that  we  intended  to  "  make 
it  hot"  for  disturbers,  and  that  the  man  who  entered  the  ban- 
quet-hall with  purpose  to  insult  our  guest  (as  was  but  too 
plainly  threatened  in  some  of  the  Tory  papers)  must  be  pre- 
pared for  all  consequences.  I  drew  a  plan  or  diagram  by 
which  the  room  was  to  be  seated,  each  chair  numbered,  and 
each  table  indicated  by  a  colored  banner.  We,  moreover,  had 
an  alphabetical  register  kept  of  the  name  and  address  of  every 
ticket-holder,  with  the  number  of  his  assigned  seat.  By  this 
means  we  could  tell  in  what  exact  spot  a  suspicious  visitor 
would  be  placed,  and  could  arrange  accordingly.  Never  was 
check-mate  more  complete.  About  a  dozen  intending  ticket- 
purchasers  turned  away  "disgusted"  with  this  new-fangled 
idea  of  having  their  names,  addresses,  and  occupations  regis- 
tered on  a  numbered  seat.  We  knew  these  gentlemen  well, 
and  knew  what  they  meant  to  do;  but,  pretending  to  re- 
gard them  as  admirers  of  John  Bright,  we  "  confidentially" 
whispered  to  them  the  motive  of  our  arrangement.  They 
"  changed  their  minds,"  and  bought  no  tickets. 

The  banquet  was  held  on  the  30th  of  October,  and  was  a 
success  beyond  all  anticipation.    It  was  the  great  event  of  the 
2b 


418  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

year.  Xo  more  splendid  assemblage,  none  more  influential 
or  numerous,  had  gathered  at  a  political  dinner  in  Ireland 
within  our  generation.  The  chair,  which  would  have  been 
filled  by  our  lamented  friend  Mr.  Dillon,  was  occupied  by 
The  O'Donoghue,  M.P.,  then  at  the  zenith  of  his  popularity. 
Mr.  Bright  received  an  ovation  rarely  equalled  in  warmth 
and  enthusiasm. 

While  he  was  speaking,  amidst  breathless  silence,  a  voice 
suddenly  interrupted  with  some  rude  observation.  On  any 
other  occasion  the  incident  might  have  passed  unnoticed,  but 
now  the  rumor  of  a  "  black  bottle"  scene*  was  in  every  one's 
mind,  and  the  merest  trifle  was  enough  to  create  alarm.  I 
knew  by  reference  to  the  marked  plan  in  my  pocket  that  the 
interrupter  was  very  unlikely  to  be  present  with  evil  intent, 
yet  I  feared  what  might  occur  if  a  panic  set  in.  Two  stewards 
remonstrated  with  him ;  but  he  seemed  beyond  his  own  con- 
trol. A  second  and  a  third  time  he  shouted  some  incoherent 
observation,  when,  on  a  pre-arranged  signal,  four  athletic 
stewards  whipped  him  bodily  out  of  his  seat  and  bore  him 
gently  out  of  the  room.  The  thing  was  done  so  swiftly, 
quietly,  and  smoothly  that  it  was  all  over  in  a  few  seconds. 
Then  there  burst  forth  a  cheer  so  loud  and  long  that  one 
might  have  thought  something  of  great  importance  had  been 
accomplished.  It  meant  that  the  assemblage  realized  how 
completely  the  threat  of  an  anti-Bright  disturbance  had  col- 
lapsed in  the  face  of  a  little  energy  and  determination. 

With  the  fall  of  the  Russell-Gladstone  ministry  in  June, 
I 

*  On  the  14th  of  December,  1822,  on  the  occasion  of  the  Marquis 
Wellesley,  Lord  Lieutenant,  visitinc;  the  Theatre  Eoyal,  Dublin,  an 
organized  disturbance  on  the  part  of  the  Orangemen  took  place,  in  re- 
sentment of  his  Excellency's  sympathy  Avith  Catholic  Emancipation. 
The  affray  is  always  referred  to  as  the  "  black  bottle"  riot, — a  black 
bottle  having  been  flung  at  the  Viceroy  by  an  Orangeman  in  the  top 
gallery. 


"DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO !"  419 

1866,  there  set  in  a  two  years'  spell  of  such  parliamentary 
confusion  and  vacillation  as  had  not  been  known  since  Lord 
Melbourne's  time.  The  Tory  ministry  were  too  weak  to  rule, 
the  Liberal  opposition  too  feeble  and  too  hopelessly  disinte- 
grated to  displace  them.  In  the  House  of  Lords  Lord  Derby 
led  a  flowing  majority,  but  in  the  Commons  Mr.  Disraeli  had 
to  deal  with  chaos  come  again.  It  was  impossible  to  tell  from 
day  to  day  with  anything  like  certainty  in  what  lobby,  with 
ministers  or  against  them,  a  majority  would  be  found  voting. 
Now  it  was  one  way,  anon  another.  Amidst  a  state  of  circum- 
stances so  adverse  the  great  question  of  Reform  worked  its 
w^ay  to  a  remarkable  conclusion.  Mr.  Disraeli  would  contend 
that  he  was  the  real  friend  of  a  popular  franchise ;  but  it  was 
with  gloomy  fears  the  Reformers  saw  him  undertake  to  fondle 
what  they  declared  he  meant  to  strangle.  He  w^as,  however, 
a  facile  foe.  He  adapted  his  policy  to  the  peculiarities  of  the 
situation.  He  took  defeats  in  a  most  Christian  spirit,  and 
became  all  things  to  all  majorities.  Eventually,  to  his  own 
great  surprise  (veiled  under  Avell-feigned  satisfaction),  he 
found  himself  the  author  of  the  most  radical  suffrage  bill 
ever  passed  under  the  auspices  of  a  British  Cabinet. 

Throughout  this  period,  from  the  summer  of  1866  to  the 
end  of  1867,  the  English  Liberal  party  in  Parliament,  rent 
by  discord  and  weakened  by  defection,  presented  a  pitiable 
spectacle.  Mr.  Gladstone  at  one  time  seemed  about  to  retire 
in  disgust  from  the  leadership  of  the  broken  and  dispirited 
array.  In  vain  was  an  issue  sought  on  which  they  might  be 
rallied  as  of  old  in  a  compact  body.  On  no  domestic  (Eng- 
lish) question  that  could  be  devised  or  discerned  was  it  found 
practicable  to  reunite  them ;  and  what  caused  most  dismay 
on  the  Opposition  benches  was  the  conviction  that  were  any 
such  question  to  be  discovered,  Mr.  Disraeli  would  not  im- 
probably "  cut  them  out"  by  espousing  it  himself.  The  Tory 
leader  who,  in  order  to  hold  on  by  the  Treasury  Bench,  has 


420  ^^^W  IRELAND. 

passed  a  Household  Suifrage  Bill  was  not  a  man  to  stick  at 
trifles. 

When  the  outlook  seemed  darkest,  however,  a  light  arose 
over  the  path  of  the  Liberals,  and  it  came  from  Ireland. 

An  incident,  apparently  trivial,  in  the  council-chamber  of 
the  Dublin  Corporation  a  year  or  two  before  had  brought 
about  results  which  led  right  up  to  Disestablishment. 

On  the  threshold  of  the  new  movement  in  Ireland  the  ex- 
treme section  of  the  Irish  Conservative  party  resorted  to  a 
course  of  action  which  many  of  them  subsequently  bewailed 
as  most  unwise  and  impolitic, — as  tlie  real  beginning  of  their 
overthrow.  Taking  their  cue  from  the  manifesto  of  the 
Grand  Orange  Lodge  on  the  28th  of  December,  1864,  tliey 
sought  to  stop  the  Catholics  by  means  of  the  odious  "  Cath- 
olic Oath."  It  was  known  that  several  prominent  Catholic 
politicians,  peers  and  commoners,  had  felt  themselves  pre- 
cluded from  joining  in  any  Disestablishment  agitation  or 
debate  by  this  clause  in  "  the  Catholic  oaths."  In  the  case 
of  Catholics  becoming  members  of  a  civic  corporation  there 
was  this  painful  aggravation  of  the  grievance,  that  Prot- 
estants were  required  to  take  no  oath  at  all,  M'hile  Catholics, 
and  Catholics  alone,  were,  so  to  speak,  put  on  their  knees  at 
the  bar  and  compelled  to  swear  fealty  to  the  Church  Estab- 
lishment. Many  good  and  honorable  men  explained  it  away 
satisfactorily  to  their  consciences ;  but  for  my  own  part  I 
felt  that  I  could  not  subscribe  to  such  an  oath ;  and  Mhen  I 
was  elected  to  a  seat  in  the  jMunicipal  Council  of  Dublin  in 
1862,  I  decided  to  refuse  it.  Tlie  penalty  which  I  incurred 
by  such  a  course  was  a  fine  of  five  hundred  pounds  and  dis- 
qualification. I  judged  that  one  of  two  results  would  ensue 
from  my  refusal :  either  I  should  pass  unsworn  without  chal- 
lenge or  interference,  and  all  other  Catholics  subsequently 
elected  would  do  the  same,  and  the  obnoxious  law  would  be- 
come a  dead  letter ;  or  else  I  should  be  prosecuted,  and  the 


''DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO r'  421 

imposition  of  fine  and  punishment  upon  me  would  so  arouse 
public  opinion  as  to  the  insulting  character  of  such  tests  that 
Parliament  would  assuredly  sweep  them  away. 

On  perfecting  before  Mr.  Henry,  town  clerk,  the  statutory 
declaration  as  to  my  property  qualification,  that  gentleman 
intimated  to  me  that  there  now  remained  for  me  only  to  "  go 
before  a  magistrate,  take  the  oath,  and  sign  the  roll." 

"There  is  Alderman  Bonsall  just  gone  up-stairs,"  said  I: 
"  has  he  taken  the  oath?"  (I  knew  well  he  had  not ;  for  the 
alderman  was  a  leading  Tory  of  very  Orange  hue.) 

"Oh,  he  need  not  take  it:  he  is  not  a  Catholic,"  replied 
Mr.  Henry. 

"Well,  Mr.  Town  Clerk,"  I  rejoined,  "call  upon  me  to 
take  the  oath  when  Alderman  Bonsall  is  sworn,  but  not  till 
then.     If  he  is  free,  so  must  I  be." 

I  took  my  seat  unsworn,  and  for  some  period  was  not  mo- 
lested. At  length  I  was  denounced  to  justice  in  the  Daibj 
Express  for  a  violation  of  the  statute  in  this  case  made  and 
provided ;  and  one  morning  as  the  council  was  about  to 
assemble  I  was  informed  that  the  Lord  Mayor  had  been 
officially  called  upon  to  give  me  into  custody,  or  to  take  other 
requisite  steps,  if  I  spoke  or  v^oted  as  a  councillor  that  day. 
The  Lord  Mayor  was  the  Hon.  John  P.  Vereker,  son  of 
Lord  Gort,  a  stanch  Conservative,  a  man  of  broad  and  gen- 
erous spirit.  He  called  me  aside  and  told  me  of  the  demand 
that  had  been  made  upon  him. 

"  Well,  my  lord,  do  }  our  duty,"  I  said,  "  and  let  not  our 
personal  friendship  put  you  in  any  official  difficulty  on  my 
account.  I  have  measured  the  consequences  of  my  course, 
and  must  face  them." 

"Oh,"  he  replied,  "I  have  given  the  parties  my  answer." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?" 

"That  I  have  no  official  knowledge  of  your  religious 
creed,  having   never  examined   you  in  the  decrees  of  the 

36 


422  i\'£jr  IRELAXD. 

Council  of  Trent,  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  or  the  "West- 
minster Confession  of  Faith." 

I  heard  no  more  just  then  of  the  threatened  penalty  or  the 
unsworn  oaths. 

On  the  1st  of  January,  1865,  the  civic  council  were  in  the 
act  of  passing  to  Alderman  MacSwiuey,  the  outgoing  Lord 
Mayor,  who  had  presided  at  the  inaugural  meeting  of  the 
Xational  Association,  the  customary  vote  of  thanks  on  the 
close  of  his  year  of  office,  when  a  Conservative  councillor, 
Mr.  Pilkington,  jumped  suddenly  to  his  feet,  and  objected  to 
the  vote,  on  the  distinct  ground  that  the  outgoing  dignitary 
had  been  false  to  his  oath  in  respect  of  the  Ciuirch  by  law 
established.  This  charge  of  public  perjury  against  the  man 
who  had  barely  laid  down  the  wand  of  office  as  chief  magis- 
trate of  the  city — and  perjury  on  such  grounds! — flung  the 
council  into  the  wildest  indignation.  Of  course  the  imputa- 
tion was  fiercely  resented,  scornfully  repelled ;  but  the  Con- 
servatives followed  it  up  by  reading  the  ipsissima  verba  of  the 
oath  relied  upon  to  sustain  their  accusation.  The  vote  was 
passed,  but  the  Catholic  and  Liberal  members  vowed  that 
the  matter  should  not  rest  there.  Out-of-doors  the  effisct  was 
equally  strong.  A  cry  arose  for  the  sweeping  away  of  these 
offiiusive  barriers  between  citizens  of  different  creeds.  The 
municipal  council  itself  formally  commenced  an  agitation 
against  "  Obnoxious  Oaths."  A  special  meeting  was  con- 
vened with  great  display  to  debate  the  question.  By  unani- 
mous resolution  it  was  ordered  that  a  petition  praying  for  the 
abolition  of  these  invidious  test  declarations  should  be  pre- 
sented at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  by  the  Lord 
Mayor  in  state.  The  other  municipalities  of  Ireland  caught 
the  excitement.  Deputations,  addresses,  petitions,  resolu- 
tions, on  the  "Obnoxious  Oaths,"  kept  the  public  mind  in  a 
ferment.  The  ascendency  yoke  that,  as  John  Bright  com- 
plained, seemed  to  have  lain  so  liglitly  on  Irish  necks  now  grew 


''DELENDA   EST  CARTHAGO  I"  423 

intolerable.  The  opportunity  that  so  long  had  been  sought 
for  and  waited  for  had  come  at  last.  It  was  decided  to  break 
ground  against  the  Church  by  an  attack  on  the  Test  Oaths. 
The  Grand  Orange  Lodge  on  that  28th  of  December,  1864, 
and  Mr.  Pilkington  on  the  1st  of  January,  1865,  had  applied 
a  torch  to  the  pile  they  thouglit  to  defend ! 

Over  the  Catholic  Oaths  Bill  from  the  session  of  1865  to 
that  of  1867  the  great  battle  that  was  soon  to  come  in  earnest 
was  fought  in  miniature,  and  fought  on  ground  the  most 
favorable  that  could  have  been  found  for  the  attacking  party. 
The  oaths  were  manifestly  indefensible.  Mr.  Disraeli  saw  it, 
felt  it,  virtually  confessed  it ;  but  every  one  knew  that  they 
were  now  assailed  as  the  outposts  of  the  Church,  and  so  the 
abolition  was  doggedly  resisted.  In  two  sessions  consecu- 
tively the  Commons  passed  the  measure ;  as  often  did  it  fail 
in  the  House  of  Lords.  Eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-seven 
found  the  Establishment  outposts  intact,  but  the  movement 
against  them  had  served  the  purpose  of  the  assailants  as 
effectually  as  capture  would  have  done.  Events  of  consid- 
erable importance  had,  as  we  shall  see,  occurred  meantime. 
All  over  the  land  "Delenda  est  Carthago"  was  the  cry.  Tlie 
moment  had  arrived  for  the  storming  of  the  stronghold ! 


.       CHAPTER    XXYL 

DISESTABLISHMENT. 

When  the  first  inevitable  burst  of  indignation  and  anger 
called  forth  in  England  by  the  Fenian  conspiracy  had  a  little 
subsided,  there  began  to  dawn  on  the  minds  of  the  English 
people  an  idea  that  there  must  after  all  be  "  something  rotten" 
in  the  state  of  Ireland.  This  was  perplexing;  because  it 
was  in  utter  contradiction  to  all  that  the  authorities  upon 
whom  they  most  relied  had  told  them  about  that  country. 
They  had  been  assured  that,  whatever  might  have  been  the 
case  in  the  past,  Ireland  "  now"  had  no  cause  of  complaint : 
she  was  loyal  and  contented,  happy,  wealthy,  and  prosperous, 
with  pigs  abounding  and  bullocks  thriving.  At  no  time  were 
these  assurances  so  frequently  and  so  strongly  indulged  in  as 
during  the  years  immediately  preceding  the  Fenian  outbreak. 
"The  land  laws?  They  are  excellent;  'tenant  right'  means 
'  landlord  Avrong.'  The  Church  ?  No  grievance  at  all ;  this 
is  a  Protestant  realm,  and  Roman  Catholic  ascendency  is 
what  the  Irish  priests  are  really  after.  Home  legislation? 
A  cry  for  the  moon  ;  we  cannot  break  up  the  empire.  Edu- 
cation ?  The  Irish  have  the  schools  we  know  to  be  the  best 
for  them ;  whereas  they  had  none  previously."  Thus  the 
story  ran.  If  an  honest  Irishman  had  the  temerity  to  hint 
a  doubt  of  it, — dared  to  say  there  was  any  discontent  in  Ire- 
land, or  any  reason  why  there  should  be, — he  was  savagely 
set  upon,  called  an  incendiary,  and  denounced  as  a  calum- 
niator.* 

*  So  late  as  the  23d  of  May,  1867,  an  Irish  member  (Mr.  S.  F.  Ma- 
guire),  having  ventured  to  bhime  the  existing  state  of  things,  was  thus 
424 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  425 

In  the  midst  of  such  declarations  came  the  Fenian  con- 
spiracy, with  its  sad  and  horrible  incidents  in  Manchester  and 
London.  At  first,  of  course.  Englishmen  thought  only  of 
vindicating  the  outraged  majesty  of  the  law  ;  but  when  it  had 
been  vindicated — when  the  executioner  had  done  his  work, 
and  the  chain-gangs  at  Portland  and  Chatham  had  been  re- 
inforced by  political  convicts — there  began  to  creep  through 
England  a  doubt  that  the  newspapers  and  the  viceroys  and  the 
chief  secretaries  could  have  been  all  right  as  to  Ireland  "now" 
having  no  cause  of  complaint.  A  serious  doubt  truly.  The 
consoling  array  of  pig  statistics  and  green-crop  extension  and 
fat-stock  multiplication  had  been  to  English  expectation  as 
equivocal  in  prophecy  as  the  witches'  promise  to  the  Thane 
of  Fife. 

The  better  nature  of  Englishmen  was  touched  and  aroused 
by  the  spectacle  opened  to  their  contemplation  in  this  lament- 
able Fenian  business.  They  were  much  impressed  by  the 
exhibition  of  such  reckless  fanaticism  mingled  with  patriotic 
self-immolation.  But  more,  much  more,  were  they  moved 
by  the  serious  circumstance  that  the  Irish  multitude  who  had 
rejected,  condemned,  or  refused  to  join  the  Fenian  scheme 

answered  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  Mr.  Koebuck,  M.P.  :  "The 
honorable  gentleman  rushes  into  the  whole  subject  of  Irish  grievances. 
Now,  in  the  first  place,  I  will  make  an  admission :  that  tip  to  1829 
nothing  could  have  been  worse  than  the  government  of  Ireland.  I  will 
allow  that.  But  from  that  time  to  this  the  House  has  been  doing  all  it 
could  to  alleviate  the  physical,  the  constitutional,  and  the  moral  inju- 
ries of  Ireland.  There  have,  however,  been  obstacles,  and  among  the 
chief  of  those  is  the  language  used  by  the  honorable  gentleman  (cheers). 
Can  honorable  members  think  that  their  poor,  uneducated,  miserable 
countrymen  in  Ireland  will  see  the  truth  when  they  themselves,  herein 
this  house  and  before  the  people  of  England,  dare  to  say  that  we  are 
unjust  to  Ireland?  Why,  I  say  that  a  more  foul  calumny,  a  more 
gigantic  falsehood,  was  never  uttered." 

And  this  was  within  less  than  a  year  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  Disestablish- 
ment Resolutions. 

36* 


426  ^^^^y  IRELAND. 

were  clearly  none  the  less  in  moral  revolt  against  the  state 
of  things  around  them.  All  over  Britain  a  murmur,  soon  to 
be  a  cry,  arose  that  there  must  be  a  cause  for  political  symp- 
toms so  plain  and  terrible  as  these.  When  once  the  Eng- 
lish nation,  awaking  to  the  existence  of  an  evil,  exclaims 
that  "  Something  must  be  done,"  old  wrongs  and  venerable 
anomalies,  one  and  all,  have  need  to  tremble;  for  the  "  some- 
thing" that  is  done  is  often  that  only  which  happens  to  be 
nearest  to  hand  or  is  selected  almost  at  hap-hazard. 

"  What  can  we  do  for  Ireland  ?"  was  tlie  question  uttered 
in  good  faith  and  with  just  intent  by  thousands  of  English- 
men. "  What  are  the  grievances  which  we  can  remedy  for 
our  Irish  fellow-subjects?  We  cannot  listen  to  their  demands 
for  national  autonomy,  but  whatever  else  we  can  do  for  them 
that  Avill  be  for  their  good  (or  rather  that  we  shall  consider 
to  be  for  their  good)  shall  be  done." 

The  growth  of  these  ideas  and  feelings  throughout  Eng- 
land, long  before  it  had  reached  this  decisive  stage,  was  noted 
by  the  leading  members  of  the  English  Liberation  Society. 
They  saw  a  grand  opportunity,  and  promptly  turned  it  to 
account.  They  poured  through  the  land  invectiv^es  against 
the  Irish  Law  Church.  They  said  to  Englishmen,  "  You 
desire  to  know  what  ails  Ireland.  Here  it  is.  You  desire  to 
befriend  Ireland,  to  end  misgovernment  and  make  reparation 
for  the  past ;  you  want  to  know  what  to  do.  Do  this.  Sweep 
aw'ay  this  cruel  oppression,  this  fruitful  source  of  heart-burn- 
ing and  strife.  Abolish  this  hateful  caste,  this  sectarian  gar- 
rison, which  has  only  made  Irishmen  hate  you  when  they 
might  have  learned  to  love  you.  Tell  the  Catholic  millions 
of  Ireland  that  henceforth  all  creeds  are  equal  in  the  eye  of 
the  law,  and,  possessing  religious  equality,  they  will  become 
happy  and  contented  citizens  of  the  empire." 

To  Englishmen  in  the  mood  of  the  time  it  was  a  thrice- 
welcome  voice  that  spoke  so  opportunely  and  so  well.     Some 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  427 

no  doubt  there  were  who  did  not  like  the  Liberation  Society 
or  its  designs  in  England ;  but  this  Disestablishment  was  to 
be  over  there  in  Ireland,  not  at  their  own  doors.  They  cried 
aloud,  "  Let  it  be  done." 

Less  sagacious  men  than  the  Liberal  leaders  in  England 
could  see  what  all  these  signs  proclaimed.  The  time  was  ripe 
for  a  bold  and  great  policy.  On  the  Irish  Church  question 
the  Conservative  leader  durst  not  venture  to  compete  with 
them.  Here  was  the  ground  on  which  to  engage  and  over- 
throw him.  Here  was  a  policy  on  which  the  Liberal  party 
could  be  reconstructed  and  endowed  with  new  life  and  power. 
No  "caves"  would  be  formed,  no  mutinies  attempted,  on  this 
line  of  march.  The  united  Liberalism  of  England,  Ireland, 
and  Scotland  would  go  forward  with  one  heart  and  one  mind 
on  this  issue. 

On  the  7th  of  April,  1867,  Sir  John  Gray,  following  up 
his  motion  of  the  previous  year,  moved  the  House  of  Com- 
mons to  declare  that  on  tlie  27th  instant  it  would  resolve  itself 
into  a  committee  on  the  Irish  Church.  Even  at  this  date  Mr. 
Gladstone  was  hesitant,  and  supported  the  "  previous  ques- 
tion," with  which  the  motion  was  encountered ;  but,  strange 
to  say,  he  did  not  cast  his  vote  on  either  side.  Two  months 
later  the  coming  storm  was  sufficiently  discerned,  and  the 
House  of  Lords  determined  upon  the  feeble  expedient  of  a 
"  royal  commission."  It  was  moved  for  on  the  24th  of  June, 
1867,  and  appointed  on  the  30th  of  October  following,  Earl 
Stanhope  being  chairman.  Between  the  summer  of  1867 
and  the  spring  of  1868  the  country  passed  through  the 
sharpest  crisis  of  the  Fenian  alarms :  the  Manchester  Rescue 
and  executions,  the  attempt  to  seize  Chester  Castle,  and  the 
Irish  risings,  had  one  after  another  aroused  excitement  and 
panic.  The  state  of  Ireland — between  conspiracy  and  insur- 
rection on  the  one  hand,  and  suspension  of  all  constitutional 
government   on   the  other — was  a   European   scandal.     On 


428  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

Tuesday  the  10th  of  March,  1868,  a  great  debate  which  ex- 
tended over  four  days  was  commenced  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  a  motion  by  Mr.  J.  F.  ]Maguire  for  a  committee  to 
consider  the  condition  of  that  country.     It  was  upon  this  oc- 
casion that  Mr.  Gladstone  at  length  plunged  across  the  Rubi- 
con.    On  the  fourth  day  of  the  debate,  the  16th  of  March, 
1868,  he  declared  that  the  time  had  come  when  the  Irish 
Church  Establishment  must  fall.     On  his  announcement  that 
he  would  forthwith  himself  present  the  issue  definitely  to  the 
House,  both  the  resolution  and  amendment  were  withdrawn ; 
and  on  the  23d  of  March  he  introduced  his  memorable  "  Res- 
olutions."    The  debate  formally  opened  on  the  30th  of  March, 
when  ministers  were  overthrown,  the  motion  to  go  into  com- 
mittee on  the  resolutions  being  carried  by  a  vote  of  331  to 
270.     The  debate  in  the  committee  w^as  prosecuted  with  equal 
vigor.     It  lasted  over  eleven  nights,  closing  at  3  A.M.  on  the 
morning  of  the  1st  of  May,  1868,  when  the  first  resolution 
was  carried  by  a  vote  of  330  to  265.     Four  days  afterwards 
Mr.   Disraeli  announced  that  ministers  had  tendered  their 
resignation,  but  that  the  Queen  wished  them  to  retain  office 
"  until  the  state  of  public  business  would  admit  of  a  dissolu- 
tion," which  would  accordingly  take  place  in  the  autumn.     It 
was  a  clever  stroke  to  hold  on  to  office  throughout  the  disso- 
lution ;  all  the  advantages  of  official  power,  usually  considered 
to  be  worth  thirty  votes  in  a  general   election,  thus  being 
secured.     On  the  7th  of  May  the  second  and  third  of  Mr. 
Gladstone's  resolutions  were  carried  in  committee.     On  the 
16tli,  just  as  they  w^ere  being  finally  affirmed  by  the  House, 
Lord  Stanhope's  commission   of   the   previous  year,  which 
everybody  seemed  to  have   forgotten,  appeared  with   their 
report  on  the  Irish  Church,  recommending  the  abolition  of 
half  a  dozen  bishoprics,  and  sundry  minor  "  reforms."     It 
evoked  a  shout  of  derision.     The  time  had  passed  for  half- 
measures.     Like  the  abdication  of  Louis  Philippe  in  the  rev- 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  429 

olution  of  February,  '48,  the  proposal  was  hailed  with  a  cry 
of  "  Too  late  !  too  late  !" 

On  the  13th  of  May  Mr.  Gladstone  introduced  the  "Sus- 
pensory Bill,"  to  prevent  new  interests  being  created  pending 
Disestablishnient.  On  the  22d  it  was  read  by  a  vote  of  312 
to  258.  It  went  triumphantly  through  the  Commons,  and 
was  brought  into  the  House  of  Lords  on  the  18th  of  June, 
where,  after  a  debate  of  three  days'  duration,  it  was,  on  the 
25th,  rejected  by  a  vote  of  192  to  97.  This  was  the  last 
stroke  of  an  expiring  power, — an  ebullition  of  jiuerile  and 
impotent  hostility. 

On  the  31st  of  July,  1868,  Parliament  was  prorogued;  on 
tlie  11th  of  November  it  was  dissolved  by  proclamation,  and 
ministers  "  appealed  to  the  country."  The  interval  between 
the  passage  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  resolutions  in  May  and  the 
dissolution  in  November  had  been  devoted  to  the  most  stren- 
uous })reparations  for  the  struggle.  Already  the  Liberal 
party  had  begun  to  reap  the  fruits  of  their  new  policy. 
Already  they  had  exchanged  disunion  for  unanimity,  weak- 
ness for  strength.  Though  office  had  been  withheld  from 
them,  power  was  once  more  theirs.  Once  more  they  had,  by 
sweeping  majorities,  defeated  their  opponents  in  the  parlia- 
mentary lists.  With  a  fierce  energy  they  now  prepared  to 
overwhelm  them  at  the  hustings. 

The  Irish  Protestants  stripped  to  the  fight  with  great  spirit, 
although  they  must  have  felt  that  they  were  on  the  side  of  a 
lost  cause.  In  Ulster,  no  doubt,  their  proceedings  were  dis- 
figured by  characteristic  bombast  and  threat.  The  line  taken 
by  the  Orangemen  in  that  province  was  that  the  coronation 
oath  forbade  the  Queen  to  allow  Disestablishment,  and  that 
she  would  be  perjured  if  she  signed  the  bill ;  that  it  would 
be  an  overthrow  of  our  Protestant  constitution  in  Church  and 
State ;  that  "  the  men  of  Ulster,"  who  had  driven  James  II. 
from  the  throne  for  like  attempts,  were  ready  and  determined 


430  ^^E^V  IRELAND. 

as  ever  now  in  the  same  good  cause.  The  Kev.  Mr.  Flana- 
gan, chaplain  in  the  Orange  Society,  addressing  a  vast  con- 
course of  his  fellow-members,  publicly  warned  all  whom  it 
might  concern  that  "  the  men  of  Ulster"  had  ere  now  kicked 
a  crown  into  the  Boyne. 

No  one,  however,  attached  any  importance  to  all  this.  For 
a  long  time  it  has  been  accepted  as  the  harmless  traditional 
prerogative  of  "Ulster,"  as  the  Orange  societies  call  them- 
selves, to  intimate  to  the  British  nation  that  it  is  on  the  q^ii 
Vive,  and  that  when  Ulster  is  on  the  watch  England  may  be 
easy  in  her  mind;  that  Ulster  is  and  ever  has  been  the  main- 
stay and  protector  of  the  realm ;  that  it  was  Ulster  and  not 
England  that  made  the  glorious  Revolution  ;  and  that  several 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  Ulstermen  are  always  ready  to 
march  somewhere  against  somebody,  to  uphold  England  as 
long  as  she  behaves  herself  well  and  is  true  to  the  principles 
of  1690.* 

This,  however,  was  only  among  a  section  of  the  Irish 
Church  Protestants, — by  no  means  the  most  influential  sec- 
tion, though  it  certainly  may  be  the  noisiest.  As  a  general 
rule,  a  graN'e  and  earnest  spirit  was  displayed.  No  more  se- 
rious, no  more  able  defence  could  have  been  made  for  any 
political  institution  than  that  which  the  Irish  Conservatives 
put  forth  on  behalf  of  their  Church  in  1868.  Although  as 
against  the  bulk  of  their  own  countrymen  they  had  no  case, 
against  the  British  Parliament  they  certainly  established  one 
that  was  unanswerable.  Most  Englishmen  regarded  and  dis- 
cussed their  plea  solely  as  it  affected  the  one  issue  just  then 
before  them,  and  never  gave  a  thought  further  to  it  once  that 

*  During  the  Crimean  War  of  1854  and  the  Indian  Mutiny  of  1857 
they  were  appealed  to  in  some  Irish  newspapers  to  send  out  a  body  of 
even  two  or  three  thousand  men — a  couple  of  regiments — out  of  all  these 
"hundreds  of  thousands;"  but  not  a  corporal's  guard  volunteered  from 
the  lodges. 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  431 

issue  was  decided  by  the  passing  of  the  Disestablishment  Bill. 
But  the  arguments  upon  that  case  —  the  pamphlets,  the 
speeches,  the  essays,  the  letters — were  destined  to  have  singu- 
lar and  important  results  not  generally  foreseen  in  England 
at  the  time.  They  led  to  subsequent  events  W'hich,  to  the 
view  of  the  ordinary  English  observer,  appeared  to  be  totally 
new,  quite  independent  of  the  question  thus  disposed  of;  but 
beneath  the  surface  they  were  connected  wdth  it,  and  arose 
from  it  like  the  dip  and  crop  of  geological  strata. 

That  defence  of  the  Irish  Church  was  based  mainly  on 
the  Act  of  Union.  There  were  of  course  other  grounds, — 
plenty  of  them ;  but  one  by  one  they  were  evacuated  as  un- 
tenable under  the  fire  of  argument,  logic,  and  fact  poured 
against  them  from  the  other  side.  Here  alone  the  Church 
party  were  confessedly  in  a  strong  position.  The  fifth  article 
of  the  Act  of  Union  between  England  and  Ireland  solemnly 
declared  the  maintenance  forever  of  the  Irish  Church  estab- 
lishment, or  rather  the  incorporation  of  that  establishment 
with  the  English  as  "  the  United  Church  of  England  and 
Ireland,"  to  be  a"  fundamental  and  essential"  stipulation  and 
condition.  The  English  language  could  not  more  explicitly 
set  forth  a  solemn  and  perpetual  covenant  between  two  parties 
than  this  article  set  forth  the  contract  between  the  episcopal 
Protestants  of  Ireland  and  the  imperial  Parliament.*  By 
the  Act  of  Union  there  were  to  be  not  two  establishments 
but  one  establishment, — "  the  Established  Church  of  England 

*  "  Article  5th.  That  the  Churches  of  England  and  Ireland  as  now 
by  law  established  be  united  into  one  Protestant  episcopal  Church,  to  be 
called  '  the  United  Church  of  England  and  Ireland,'  and  the  doctrine, 
worship,  discipline,  and  government  of  the  said  United  Church  shall  be 
and  shall  remain  in  full  force  forever  as  the  same  are  now  by  law  estab- 
lished for  the  Church  of  England,  and  the  continuance  and  preservation 
of  the  said  United  Church  as  the  established  Church  of  England  and 
Ireland  shall  be  deemed  and  taken  to  be  an  essential  and  fundamental 
part  of  the  Union." 


432  ^^^  IRELAND. 

and  Ireland,"  the  then  previously  existing  Irish  establish- 
ment being  merged  and  absorbed  into  this  one,  the  main- 
tenance of  which  forever  was  thus  stipulated.  It  was  not 
open  to  an  English  minister  to  treat  them  now  as  two.  To- 
gether as  one  they  were  to  stand  or  fall, — or  rather  forever  to 
stand ;  but  as  to  falling,  the  Union  was  to  fall  too  if  the 
establishment  so  guaranteed  should  ever  fail  to  be  maintained. 
Of  course  there  were  many  splendid  efforts  of  argument  and 
eloquence,  as  well  as  many  learned  disquisitions  and  much 
legal  casuistry,  forthcoming  on  the  Liberal  or  Disestablish- 
ment side,  to  show  how  Parliament  could  break  the  pact  thus 
relied  upon  ;  but  nothing  could  get  over  the  explicit  declara- 
tion that  this  stipulation  was  to  be  "fundamental  and  essential" 
to  the  Union.  Once  it  was  gone  the  Union  was  no  more. 
The  Church  defenders  admittedly  had  the  best  case ;  but  Mr. 
Gladstone  had  the  logic  of  big  battalions  on  his  side. 

It  cannot  be  wondered  at  that  all  this  flung  the  Irish  Prot- 
estant mind  back  upon  the  period  at  which  the  Union  com- 
pact was  formed,  and  tended  to  raise  the  question  whether 
Irish  Protestants  would  not  have  fared  better  if  they  had  not 
entered  into  that  treaty,  but  had  made  terms  with  the  Irish 
community.  These  thoughts  and  reflections  found  frequent 
utterance  in  the  speeches  of  the  Irish  Church  party,  especially 
in  protests  addressed  by  them  to  England.  "  There  are  many 
of  us,"  they  said,  "  who,  keeping  faith  with  you  as  long  as 
you  kept  it  with  us,  have,  on  this  account,  accepted  and  acted 
on  the  theory  that  Ireland  was  merged  by  the  Union.  You 
teach  us  otherwise  now.  Do  not  complain  hereafter  if  we 
act  accordingly." 

Neither  in  Ireland  nor  in  England  was  this  latter  intima- 
tion much  believed  in  or  attended  to  at  the  time.  "  They  do 
not  mean  it,"  said  the  Irish  Catholics.  "  It  is  but  an  idle 
menace,"  said  the  English  Liberals. 

It  was  indeed  an  exciting  time  when,  avowedly,  on  this  one 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  433 

question  the  three  kingdoms  were  summoned  to  the  polls  in 
the  autumn  of  1868.  In  Ireland  the  days  of  1829  seemed 
to  have  come  again.  All  the  feelings,  passions,  antagonisms 
of  that  era  burst  forth  anew.  There  were  but  two  parties  in 
the  island, — those  who  fought  for  Disestablishment  and  those 
who  fought  against  it.  All  were  for  the  moment  either  Lib- 
erals or  Conservatives.  Even  the  Fenians — who  had  spilled 
the  blood  of  their  own  countrymen  and  fellow-Nationalists 
in  putting  down  public  meetings  and  forbidding  any  popular 
manifestations  of  a  non-Separatist  character — fell  into  the 
ranks  on  the  Liberal  side,  or  else  maintained  a  '^  benevolent 
neutrality."  The  Nation,  on  behalf  of  the  Repeal  or  Con- 
stitutional-Nationalist party,  though  ever  since  1852  main- 
taining an  invincible  opposition  to  Whig-Liberalism,  now 
formally  proclaimed  that  in  this  great  crisis  every  friend  of 
civil  and  religious  liberty  must  march  shoulder  to  shoulder. 
The  Liberals  had  not  had  such  an  auspicious  time  in  Ireland 
for  thirty  years. 

One  day,  in  the  thick  of  the  battle,  the  door  of  my  room 
was  rather  violently  pushed  open,  and  a  friend  whom  I  knew 
to  be  actively  engaged  in  the  elections  stepped  hurriedly  in. 

"  I  have  something  of  the  utmost  urgency  and  importance 
to  put  before  you,"  he  said.  "  You  have  it  in  your  power  now 
not  alone  to  pay  off  the  ascendency  men  for  their  last  base 
attempt  against  you,  but  you  can  furthermore  strike  a  stunning 
blow  for  Disestablishment.     Are  you  ready  and  willing  ?" 

As  he  eagerly  put  his  question  he  gave  me  a  slap  on  the 
shoulder,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Of  course  you  are." 

The  "  base  attempt"  against  me  to  which  he  alluded  was  a 
proceeding  which  gave  rise  to  very  heated  feelings  in  Dublin, 
and  which  I  must  say  incensed  and  embittered  myself  at  the 
time. 

While  in  the  previous  month  of  May  I  lay  fast  bound 
under  bolts  and  bars  as  a  political  prisoner  in  Richmond, 
2  c  37 


434  iV^^IF  IRELAND. 

notice  was  publicly  given  of  the  intention  of  my  fellow- 
members  of  the  municipal  council  to  nominate  me  as  Lord 
Mayor  for  the  ensuing  year.  Instantly  on  learning  this  fact, 
I  declined,  in  the  most  positive  manner,  the  honor  thus  pro- 
posed to  be  conferred  upon  me ;  which  indeed  could  only 
have  been  meant  as  a  demonstration  of  personal  and  public 
feeling  in  view  of  my  imprisonment.  I  received,  however, 
from  the  leading  members  of  the  Conservative  party  the 
kindliest  assurances  that  if  I  wished  to  allow  the  nomination 
it  would  be  unopposed  by  them, — would  be,  in  fact,  unani- 
mous. That  these  declarations  were  given  in  good  faith, 
that  any  compliment  which  I  would  accept  and  was  in  their 
powder  consistently  to  oifer  would  be  readily  extended  to  me, « 
was  attested  by  their  frank  and  generous  conduct  towards  me 
at  all  times  previously.  Nevertheless,  so  fierce  and  high  did 
party  feeling  run  under  the  influence  of  the  Disestablishment 
excitement,  that  in  November  an  attempt  was  made,  by  order 
of  the  Conservative  party  managers,  to  invalidate  my  seat  in 
the  council,  and  to  strike  my  name  off  the  burgess  roll,  on 
the  ground  that  I  was  for  registration  purposes  "dead  in 
law,"  or  "resident"  nowhere,  during  my  incarceration.  A 
lengthy  legal  argument  decided  the  case  in  my  favor;  but 
the  resort  to  such  a  proceeding,  though  it  could  hardly  be 
called  "a  blow  below  the  belt"  in  party  warfare,  had  un- 
questionably a  most  bitter  and  exasperating  influence  on  local 
feeling. 

"  Now  you  can  pay  those  fellows  off,"  said  my  friend. 

"  In  what  way  ?" 

"  Will  you  stand  for  a  seat?" 

"  Pooh  !  I  have  answered  that  sort  of  question  often  enough 
within  the  past  five  years,  and  in  two  instances  recently  to 
your  own  knoAvledge.     No,  I  will  not." 

"  But  in  this  case  you  can  do  a  lasting  service  to  the  cause ; 
you  will  either  carry  the  seat  for  yourself,  or  else  save  four 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  435 

others  we  may  otherwise  lose.  Don't  you  be  writing  in  the 
Nation  about  the  fluty  of  exertion  and  sacrifice  at  this  crisis, 
if  you  yourself  will  not  do  this." 

"  But,  even  apart  from  personal  disinclination,  the  Nation 
has  never  said  that  a  hard-working  journalist  is  bound  to 
spend  a  thousand  pounds  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  render- 
ing laborious  service  at  Westminster.  Men  of  ambition,  men 
of  fortune,  or  men  with  personal  advantages  in  view,  may 
do  so.     I  will  not." 

"  I  am  instructed  to  place  fifteen  hundred  pounds  at  your 
disposal  for  your  election-expenses." 

'*  And  what  seat  do  you  want  me  to  contest?" 

"  Dublin  County." 

"  Dublin  fiddlesticks !     You  are  not  serious !" 

But  he  was.  The  state  of  the  case  as  he  put  it  was  this. 
The  Government  (House  of  Commons)  "  whip,"  Colonel  Tay- 
lor, was  member  for  Dublin  County.  He  was  the  ofiicial 
chief  of  the  Tory  election  campaigners.  Deeming  his  own 
seat  perfectly  secure, — up  to  this  time  it  was  not  menaced, — 
hLs  hands  were  free,  and  he  was  making  busy  use  of  them  in 
pushing  attack  or  directing  defence  throughout  the  country. 
There  were  at  least  three  or  four  of  the  boroughs  in  the  prov- 
inces which  the  Liberals  could  carry  if  the  Tory  electioneer- 
ing head  centre  could  be  called  off  to  serious  self-defence  in 
Dublin,  but  "  if  not,  not."  No  trivial  attack,  no  palpable 
feint,  would  suffice.  The  "  villa-voters,"  as  they  are  called, 
around  the  Irish  metropolis  are  largely  composed  of  middle- 
class  Tory  gentlemen,  or  petty  gentry  who  own  little  proper- 
ties or  rent-charges,  entitling  them  to  vote  in  distant  boroughs 
or  counties.  They  like  to  reside  near  "  the  Coort,"  where,  as 
Thackeray  puts  it,  they  may  sometimes  figure  at  "  the  Castle" 
and  see"tiieir  sovereign,"  leastways,  "  his  Excellency."  It' 
was  discovered  that  if  these  friends  of  Church  and  State  were 
obliged  to  remain  at  home  to  vote  for  Colonel  Taylor  out  of 


436  iS'^IT'  IRELAND. 

their  residential  qualification,  three,  and  possibly  five,  con- 
stituencies, in  which  otherwise  they  would  be  free  to  vote, 
might  be  won  by  the  Liberals.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
left  Dublin  to  its  fate,  and  went  to  the  country  to  vote,  Col- 
onel Taylor  would  inevitably  be  ousted.  The  thing  was  very 
closely  examined  and  nicely  calculated.  The  conclusion  was 
obvious.  Dublin  County  must  be  attacked  in  force.  If  car- 
ried, the  victory  would  be  of  importance.  If  lost,  four  or  five 
other  seats  would  thereby  be  gained. 

"But  who  supplies  the  fifteen  hundred  pounds?"  I  in- 
quired. 

"  Ask  no  questions.  I  think  you  ought  to  have  confidence 
in  me  that  your  principles  or  your  honor  will  not  be  compro- 
mised." 

"  Not  consciously,  I  am  sure ;  but  if  the  funds  are  supplied 
by  men  of  my  own  principles,  what  need  of  reticence  ?  If 
not,  I  have  need  to  pause." 

"  They  are  not  men  of  your  national  politics ;  but  they  are 
as  ardent  as  you  in  this  Disestablishment  fight.  They  feel 
that  you,  and  you  alone,  can  carry  Dublin  County  at  this 
moment." 

"  On  my  own  principles  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

I  assented,  subject  to  consultation  with  some  friends.  I 
afterwards  found  that  five  hundred  pounds  was  to  be  supplied 
by  a  gentleman  of  very  iiigh  position  and  character  who  had 
been  a  member  of  the  late  Russell-Gladstone  Government, 
and  one  thousand  pounds  by  a  gentleman  of  whom  I  had 
never  previously  heard,  but  who  was  at  that  moment  a  Glad- 
stone's candidate  in  Louth  County, — Mr.  M.  O'Reilly  Dease. 
I  declined  the  proposition.  '*  To-day,"  I  said,  "  these  gentle- 
men and  I  are  no  doubt  fighting  side  by  side,  but  to-morrow 
or  next  day  I  may  find  it  to  be  my  duty  to  diifer  with  them 
or  to  censure  or  oppose  them  or  some  one  of  them.     Nay,  if 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  437 

I  carried  the  seat  I  might  have  to  vote  against  thein  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  I  can't  touch  the  affair.  But  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'll  do;  let  some  one  else  be  found  to  stand.  I'll 
fling  myself  heartily  into  the  fight  on  his  behalf,  and  give  to 
him  all  the  influence  which  you  seem  to  think  I  could  com- 
mand, or  the  enthusiasm  I  might  excite  for  myself  in  Dublin 
County." 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  on  the  17th  of  Nov- 
ember I  was  roused  out  of  bed  by  a  violent  ringing  of  the 
hall-door  bell.  I  was  the  first  to  rush  to  the  door,  where 
I  found  Mr.  Meade,  solicitor  and  conducting  agent  of  Mr. 
Dease,  who  had,  he  said,  posted  by  car  all  the  way  from  the 
county  Louth  on  important  and  urgent  business  with  me.  I 
hurriedly  dressed  myself,  and  there,  tiirough  hours  that  reached 
towards  the  dawn,  we  fought  out  the  whole  subject  once 
more.  My  humility,  never  I  suppose  too  great,  was  barely 
able  to  resist  the  '*  flattering  tale"  he  urged.  The  gentleman 
associated  with  Mr.  Dease  in  this  matter,  he  said,  was,  as  I 
knew,  qualified  to  speak  for  the  whole  of  the  Liberal  party ; 
and  never  would  this  important  service  be  forgotten  for 
me.  He,  Mr.  Meade,  was  now  authorized  to  say,  in  reference 
to  my  suggestion  of  selecting  some  one  else,  that  for  me  alone 
would  the  money  be  fortlicoming.  If  the  advantages  of 
this  grand  stroke  were  lost  to  the  cause  of  religious  equality, 
I  alone  would  be  reproached  hereafter. 

There  were  but  two  days  between  us  and  the  nomination. 
I  had  hardly  ever  felt  so  squeezed.  Eventually  I  agreed 
that  if  some  one  of  tAvo  gentlemen  whom  I  undertook  to  name 
— the  Hon.  Judge  Little  or  Mr.  P.  P.  MacSwiney — did  not 
consent  to  fight  Colonel  Taylor,  I  would  do  so  myself.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  either  of  them  undertook  to  stand,  the 
money  was  to  be  at  their  service  as  freely  as  it  would  have 
been  at  mine.  We  lost  a  day  vainly  trying  to  persuade 
Judge  Little,  and  Mr.  MacSwiney  could  give  us  no  answer 

37* 


438  iV^£Tr  IRELAND. 

till  lie  had  consulted  his  Grace  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin. 
As  by  this  time  it  seemed  I  was  "  in  for  it,"  I  sat  down  and 
wrote  out  my  election  address  to  the  free  and  independent 
electors,  so  as  to  have  it  ready  for  publication.  Mr.  ^lac- 
Swiney's  final  reply  was  to  reach  us  at  the  Centml  Liberal 
Committee  offices,  St.  Andrew's  Street,  before  10  P.M.  I 
found  the  room  crowded  with  the  elite  of  the  Irish  Liberal 
party :  men  usually  among  the  gravest  in  sober  commercial 
or  professional  circles  were  now  as  full  of  excitement  as  the 
youngest  enthusiast.  The  coup  in  the  county  was  the  great 
topic.  Mr.  MacSwiney  came  in.  He  was  rather  disposed  to 
stand,  but — he  hesitated.  There  was,  he  pleaded,  uo  time 
for  the  requisite  arrangements  or  preparations. 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"  I  have  not  thought  about  a  proposer  or  seconder." 

"Here  are  half  a  dozen  in  the  room,"  said  Mr.  Heron. 

"There  is  no  time  to  have  friends  at  Kilmainham  in  the 
morning  ;  and  '  the  show  of  hands'  is  a  great  deal." 

"  Trust  me  for  that,"  said  Mr.  Devitt. 

"  Then  I  have  not  my  election  address  written,  and  it  ought 
to  be  in  the  morning  papers." 

"  Here  is  one  for  you/'  said  I,  pulling  my  own  out  of  my 
pocket  and  thrusting  it  into  his  hand. 

"  I'd  like  to  read  it  over,  and  submit  it  to  a  few " 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  man  !  sign  your  name  there,  and  let  us 
instantly  have  the  printers  at  work." 

He  was  good  enough  to  say  it  was  "just  the  thing."  Any- 
how, there  was  no  time  to  compose  another  ;  and  on  the  elec- 
tion address  so  curiously  supplied  Dublin  County  election  of 
1868  w'as  contested. 

Some  of  us  did  not  get  to  bed  at  all  that  night,  there  was 
so  much  to  be  done  in  the  few  hours  at  our  command.  Richard 
Devitt,  with  a  mysterious  air,  pulled  on  his  top-coat  and  said 
he  must  go  off  to  secure  a  sufficient  attendance  of  "  the  nobility 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  439 

and  gentry  of  our  noble  county"  for  the  much-desired  "  show 
of  liands."  But  I  noted  that  it  was  to  the  uuaristocratic 
locality  of  Ringseud  that  he  drove  for  that  purpose.  I  un- 
derstood it  all  next  morning  when  I  found  myself  addressing 
as  "  Gentlemen  electors  of  this  great  county,"  a  court-house 
full  of  the  most  cut-throat-looking  rascals  it  had  ever  been 
my  lot  to  behold.  Colonel  Taylor  drove  up  to  the  hustings 
at  ten  in  the  morning,  looking  decidedly  fluttered.  He  had 
heard  the  news;  he  had  just  read  Mr.  MacSwiney's  address 
in  the  Freeman;  yet  he  would  fain  think  it  all  a  practical 
joke,  merely  an  attempt  to  "  take  a  rise  out  of  him."  About 
a  score  of  his  friends,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  in  gala  attire, 
came  on  the  scene,  to  witness  as  they  thought  the  pleasing 
sight  of  a  "  walk-over."  At  first  they  were  utterly  unable 
to  comprehend  what  they  saw  and  heard  on  entering  the 
court.  When  they  gathered  the  astounding  fact  that  a 
"  Radical"  candidate  was  about  to  be  proposed  there  and 
then,  their  indignation  was  ungovernable.  The  Tory  mag- 
nates waxed  positively  furious  with  rage.  The  assemblage  of 
Mr.  Devitt's  "  nobility  and  gentry"  in  the  body  of  the  court 
(the  whole  lot  costing  us  three  pounds  ten  and  sixpence)  was 
the  most  cruel  stroke  of  all.  They  secured  us  not  only  the 
show  of  hands, — such  hands ! — but  the  shout  of  voices, — oh, 
what  voices !  The  fellows  seemed  to  think  we  ought  to  give 
them  the  word  to  seize  Colonel  Taylor  and  his  friends  bodily 
and  cast  them  into  the  mill-race  close  by.  We  made  great 
display  of  "  moderating"  them,  well  knowing  that  the  most 
maddening  wound  we  could  inflict  on  our  haughty  opponents 
was  the  idea  of  being  beholden  to  us  for  a  hearing  on  that 
hustings  where  for  generations  their  class  had  ruled  omnipo- 
tent. If  anything  was  required  to  satisfy  me  of  the  absurdity 
of  open  nominations  and  hustings  and  "show  of  hands,"  it 
was  supplied  by  that  scene. 

Into  the  few  days  within  which  the  county  had  to  be  polled 


440  ^^W  IRELAND. 

the  Liberals  put  the  concentrated  work  and  energy  of  their 
metropolitan  forces.  It  was  only  on  the  day  after  the  nomi- 
nation that  the  genuine  earnestness  of  the  attempt  was  real- 
ized by  the  Church  party.  Then  almost  a  panic  prevailed, 
and  "not  a  man  can  be  spared"  was  the  watchword.  This 
meant  for  us  that  our  victory  would  be  elsewhere ;  and  so  it 
was.  When  on  the  polling  day  Colonel  Taylor  and  Mr. 
Hamilton  were  going  in  triumphantly,  they  seemed  to  wonder 
why  we  were  not  crestfallen,  or  rather  why  we  seemed  so  jubi- 
lant. They  did  not  know  that  we  had  in  our  pockets  tele- 
grams proclaiming  that  our  diversion  in  Dublin  County  had 
saved  or  won  some  half  a  dozen  seats  elsewhere  for  the  cause 
of  religious  equality. 

In  three  weeks  the  battle  was  virtually  over,  and  Mr.  Disraeli 
hauled  down  his  flag.  On  the  2d  of  December  he  gave  up  the 
seals,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  was  called  to  office.  On  the  0th  the 
new  Cabinet  was  installed ;  on  the  next  day  Parliament  opened. 
By  the  29th  the  ministerial  re-elections  were  over,  and  an  ad- 
journment took  place  to  the  16tli  of  February  following. 

On  the  1st  of  March,  1869,  Mr.  Gla<lstone  introduced  the 
bill  to  disestablish  the  Irish  Church.  On  the  18th  the  debate 
on  the  second  reading  commenced.  It  closed  on  the  23d,  when 
ministers  were  found  to  have  the  overwhelming  majority  of 
1 18  votes,  or  368  to  250.  On  the  31st  of  May  the  bill  passed 
the  third  reading  by  a  vote  of  361  to  247. 

For  a  time  there  was  intense  anxiety  and  apprehension  as 
to  the  probable  action  of  the  House  of  Lords,  in  which  it  was 
well  known  there  was  a  majority  hostile  to  the  measure,  if 
only  they  dared  to  vote  against  it.  Rumors  of  conflict 
between  the  two  chambers,  of  a  probable  prorogation  and 
"creation  of  peers,"  and  other  disquieting  stories,  abounded. 
In  Ireland  we  felt  confident  the  Lords  would  throw  out  the 
bill ;  and  we  looked  for  serious  results.  A  consciousness  of 
the  danger  involved  in  such  a  course,  however,  brought  wis- 


DISESTABLISHMENT.  441 

dom  to  the  peers.  "  July  the  Twelfth,"  as  the  Orangemen's 
ballad  has  it,  they  read  the  bill  a  third  and  last  time ;  and 
all  was  over.  Disestablishment  was  an  accomplished  fact. 
Fuit  Ilium. 

On  the  26th  of  July,  1869,  the  Irish  Church  Bill  received 
the  royal  assent.  Protests,  solemn,  earnest,  passionate, — de- 
nunciations loud  and  long  and  bitter, — burst  from  the  van- 
quished defenders ;  but  their  exclamations  were  drowned  in 
the  general  rejoicing.  The  Dissenting  churches  gave  praise 
that  the  day  of  subjection  was  at  an  end.  A  Tricluum  was 
celebrated  in  the  Catholic  Pro-Cathedral  of  Dublin.  The 
municipal  council  of  the  Irish  metropolis,  with  unusual  for- 
mality and  impressiveness,  voted  an  address  of  thanks  and 
congratulation  to  Mr.  Gladstone.*  Everywhere  men  realized 
that  a  great  event — almost  a  revolution — had  occurred.  But 
few  indeed  saw  at  the  moment  that  the  indirect,  or  rather 
reflex,  action  and  influence  of  that  event  was  to  eifect  the  im- 
portant changes  which  ensued.  The  overthrow  of  religious 
ascendency  in  Ireland  was  a  great  work ;  but  another  achieve- 
ment came  with  it.  For  the  first  time  in  history  the  English 
People  were  set  a  thinking — inquiring,  reading,  investigating, 
and  reasoning — upon  the  general  Irish  question.  Previously 
they  had  turned  away  from  the  worry  and  heart-break  of  such 
a  perplexing  and  vexatious  study,  and  gave  a  proxy  to  their 
Government  to  think  for  them  and  act  for  them  in  dealing 
with  Ireland.  What  the  Government  told  them,  they  ac- 
cepted uninquiringly ;  what  the  Government  asked  of  them, 
they  gave  with  alacrity.  They  thought  it  hard  that  they 
should  always  have  to  be  doing  something  for  Ireland,  and 
always  needing  to  punish  or  repress  her ;  but  "  the  Govern- 

*  If  I  say  that  it  faithfully  expressed  the  enthusiastic  feeling  of  the 
Irish  people  at  the  time,  I  raay  perhaps  be  guilty  of  undue  partiality, 
inasmuch  as  the  framing  of  its  terms  was  entirely  committed  to  me,  and 
my  draft  was  adopted  by  acclamation. 


442  iS-Eir  IRELAND. 

ment  knew  what  was  best."  The  Disestablishment  campaign, 
however,  filled  England  with  genuine  interest  in  Irish  history ; 
and  Englishmen — that  is,  the  bulk  of  the  people — awoke  to 
the  idea  that  the  Irish  were  not,  perhaps,  after  all  a  wholly 
intractable  and  perverse  race,  nor  wholly  accountable  for 
the  failings  and  shortcomings  they  displayed.  In  short,  the 
Newspaper  and  the  School  had  been  doing  their  work  east  as 
well  as  west  of  St.  George's  Sea ;  and  side  by  side  with  the 
New  Ireland  a  New  England  also  had  arisen  ! 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


LONGFORD. 


The  Church  was  disestablished.  England  had  "broken 
with  Irish  Protestantism."  In  the  course  of  the  great  cam- 
paign we  had  heard  what  Irish  Protestants  in  this  event 
would  do;  and  now  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  them.  They 
had  made  a  brave  but  unavailing  fight,  and  if  they  now  gave 
way  to  the  language  of  mortification  and  resentment,  they 
had,  from  their  own  point  of  view,  many  reasons  lor  such 
feelings.  Some  of  the  Church  Conservative  journals  were 
very  bitter.  The  pacification  of  Ireland,  the  banishment  of 
disaffection,  had  been  largely  relied  upon  as  an  object  and 
prophesied  as  a  result  of  Disestablishment;  and  now  the 
fondest  hope  of  the  exasperated  Church  party  seemed  to  be 
that  the  ministerial  arguments  and  expectations  in  this  re- 
spect might  be  utterly  falsified.  Every  symptom  of  disorder 
or  disturbance  was  hailed  with  delight.  Anything  like  a 
revival  of  Fenianism  would  have  been  a  godsend.  As  it 
was,  every  ebullition  of  disaffection  or  Nationalism  that  ap- 
peared was  magnified  and  made  the  most  of.  The  Fenians, 
to  their  amazement,  found  themselves  referred  to  as  "fine 
manly  fellows,"  "  more  honest  any  day  than  that  caitiff  Glad- 
stone." The  movement  in  favor  of  amnesty  to  the  political 
prisoners,  which  sprung  up  about  this  time,  was  the  chief 
consolation  forthcoming.  "Behold  !"  cried  the  Express  and 
Ilail,  "you  thought  to  tranquillize  Ireland  by  sacrificing  our 
Church ;  see  how  you  have  failed !"  Every  denunciation 
hurled  by  amnesty  speakers  at  the  Government  was  gleefully 
reproduced.     Every  threatening  letter  posted  on  a  bailiff's 

443 


444  iV^^TT  IRELAND. 

door  was  paraded.  In  fact,  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  not  a 
blackthorn  flourished  nor  a  hen-roost  robbed  in  all  the  land 
that  some  Tory  paper  did  not  quote  the  awful  fact  as  one 
of  the  "  fruits  of  Disestablishment." 

Amidst  all  this  unreason  and  absurdity  of  irritation,  how- 
ever, a  serious  growth  of  thought  was  silently  working  its 
way  in  the  minds  of  many  Irish  Protestants.  The  recent 
debates  and  arguments  on  the  status  and  rights  of  the  Irish 
Church  had  cast  men  back  a  good  deal  on  the  Union  period 
wherein  those  rights  were  laid  down  under  covenant.  Neces- 
sarily the  debates  in  the  Irish  Parliament  were  read  up.  The 
speeches  of  Grattan  and  Plunket  and  Saurin  and  Curran  were 
constantly  referred  to.  Irish  Protestants  felt  a  glow  of  pride 
as  the  reflection  came  that  these  men  were  their  co-religionists. 
While  the  Church  newspapers  were  noisily  railing  at  Glad- 
stone, and  threatening  England  with  an  Ireland  less  satisfied 
than  ever,  a  serious  purpose  was  forming  in  the  minds  of  men 
who  contemplated  the  situation  from  a  higher  level  than  that 
of  a  mere  party  platform.  It  may  be  doubted  that  there  ever 
was  a  time  since  1800  when  Irish  Protestants  as  a  body  be- 
lieved that  Irish  affairs  could  be  better  understood  and  cared 
for  in  a  London  legislature  than  in  an  Irish  parliament. 
Concern  for  their  rights,  privileges,  and  possessions  as  a  mi- 
nority in  the  midst  of  a  dangerous  Catholic  majority  was  the 
real  reason  why  they  supported  the  Union  system.  In  that 
system,  absorbed  into  the  triple  kingdom  as  a  whole,  they 
were  a  majority ;  endowed  with  the  strength,  the  status,  the 
rights  of  a  majority.  The  worst  blunders  or  shortcomings 
of  London  legislation  were  better  for  them,  and  more  accept- 
able, than  the  hazards  to  their  religion  and  property  involved 
in  an  Irish  parliament  returned  and  dominated  by  "  the 
priests."  Were  they  but  reasonably  assured  against  separa- 
tion from  the  empire,  against  confiscation  of  their  properties, 
and  against "  the  yoke  of  Rome,"  they  would  be  found  almost 


LONGFORD.  445 

to  a  man  demanding  the  restoration  of  the  national  legisla- 
ture in  College  Green.  Ah,  if  these  Irish  millions  were  not 
so  blindly  led  by  their  priests  in  politics,  what  a  movement 
might  now  be  possible !  But  no  man  durst  trust  himself  to 
a  parliament  elected  by  fanatics  who  would  vote  black  white 
at  the  bidding  of  their  clergy ! 

Such  were  the  thoughts  surging  through  the  minds  of 
many  Irish  Protestants  in  the  autumn  of  1869.  Suddenly  a 
remarkable  event  challenged  their  wonder,  and  enabled  them 
to  realize  the  fact  that  they  lived  no  longer  in  the  Ireland  of 
old  times. 

In  December,  1869,  Mr.  Gladstone  raised  to  the  peerage 
Colonel  Fulke  Greville-Nugent,  of  Clonyn,  county  West- 
meath,  member  of  Parliament  for  Longford  County.  Col- 
onel Greville-Nugent  was  much  respected  as  a  landlord,  and 
as  a  Liberal  in  politics  had  discharged  his  public  duties  fairly 
and  honorably.  For  thirty  years  Longford  was  a  seat  which, 
to  put  it  plainly,  was  in  the  gift  of  the  Catholic  clergy. 
They  had  in  fierce  struggle  wrested  it  from  the  Conservative 
landlords  in  O'Connell's  time,  and  firmly  held  it  ever  since. 
They  almost  invariably  fought  along  with  and  for  the  Liberal 
landlords ;  but  that  they  could  beat  these  as  well  as  the  Tory 
magnates  they  proved  in  1862,  when  they  rejected  Colonel 
White  (now  Lord  Annaly),  a  long-time  friend  and  leading 
Liberal,  because  he  accepted  office  under  Lord  Palmerston. 
They  entertained  the  warmest  regard  for  Colonel  Greville- 
Nugent, — a  Protestant,  it  may  be  noted ;  and  it  is  said  that 
before  he  accepted  the  coronet  he  was  privately  assured  in 
their  name  that,  as  a  token  of  their  feelings  towards  him,  his 
seat  for  the  county  would  be  passed  to  any  member  of  his 
family  he  might  name.  He  selected  one  of  his  younger  sons, 
Captain  Reginald  Greville-Nugent,  to  succeed  him.  It  never 
once  occurred  to  the  new  peer  or  to  the  Catholic  clergy  that 
this  mode  of  giving  away  parliamentary  seats,  though  at  one 

38 


446  iV^^TT  IRELAND. 

time  not  only  possible  but  customary  in  Ireland,  belonged  to 
an  order  of  things  that  had  silently  passed  away. 

Shortly  before,  one  of  tlie  most  remarkable  elections  on 
record  had  taken  place  in  Tipperary.  In  the  summer  of  1869 
the  agitation  for  an  amnesty  to  the  Fenian  prisoners  had, 
from  a  very  modest  beginning,  attained  to  formidable  power. 
Monster  meetings,  very  nearly  as  vast  as  those  which  O'Con- 
nell  addressed  a  quarter  of  a  century  before,  now  assembled 
to  hear  Mr.  Butt  plead  in  earnest  tones  for  the  men  who  had 
loved  Ireland  "not  wisely  but  too  well."  When  in  the 
autumn  news  came  that  Government  had  formally  refused 
the  appeal  for  clemency,  there  was  considerable  exasperation. 
A  touch  of  their  former  violence  and  intolerance  seemed  to 
return  to  the  Fenians ;  for,  making  ungrateful  requital  of  the 
popular  sympathy  they  had  received,  they  invaded  and  broke 
up  several  Tenant-Right  meetings,  refusing  to  allow  any 
such  demonstrations,  seeing  that  those  for  the  prisoners  had 
been  fruitless !  At  this  juncture  a  vacancy  was  created  in 
the  representation  of  Tipperary  by  the  death  of  ]\Ir.  Charles 
Moore  of  Mooresfort.  There  was  some  perplexity  and  delay 
in  selecting  a  popular  or  Liberal  candidate ;  and  at  length 
Mr.  Denis  Caulfield  Heron,  Q.C.,  was  invited,  and  con- 
sented, to  stand.  Almost  at  the  last  moment  some  one  sug- 
gested that  it  M'ould  be  a  very  effective  rejoinder  to  the 
refusal  of  amnesty  if  one  of  the  prisoners  were  elected  to 
the  vacant  seat!  This  was  just  the  sort  of  proceeding  calcu- 
lated to  strike  the  fancy  of  Tipperary.  Although  at  first 
the  proposition  was  treated  more  as  a  joke  than  a  reality,  it 
was  taken  up  seriously  by  the  "advanced  Nationalists"  in 
the  county;  and  O'Donovan  Rossa,  as  the  most  defiant  of 
"the  men  in  jail,"  was  chosen  to  be  the  candidate.'  The 
Catholic  clergy  tried  to  dissuade  the  people  from  what  they 
considered  a  fruitless  and  absurd  proceeding;  but  to  vote 
against  Rossa  seemed  like  a  stroke  at  amnesty,  and  the  bulk 


LONGFORD.  447 

of  thp  electors  decided  to  abstain  or  else  cast  a  voice  for  "the 
prisoner-candidate."  Out  of  twelve  thousand  on  the  regis- 
ter only  about  two  thousand  came  to  the  poll ;  but  of  these 
a  decided  majority — 1054  to  898 — voted  for  Rossa.  Within 
a  few  days  of  the  Tipperary  Rossa  election  came  the  Long- 
ford vacancy.  There  were  rumors  that  in  Longford  the 
example  of  Tipperary  would  be  followed ;  and  as  a  matter 
of  fact  it  was  for  a  moment  contemplated  by  the  friends  of 
the  prisoners  to  put  forward  Thomas  Clarke  Luby  as  candi- 
date. Men  supposed  to  be  especially  acquainted -with  pop- 
ular feeling  in  Longford  were  consulted,  and  they  emphat- 
ically declared  that,  while  sympathy  for  amnesty  was  strong, 
anything  like  a  Fenian  demonstration  would  be  entirely 
opposed  to  the  general  sentiment.  It  would  be  violently 
resisted  by  the  Catholic  clergy,  and  be  regretted  or  con- 
demned by  non-Fenian  Nationalists.  To  a  young  gentle- 
man of  Longford  town,  Mr.  James  Behan  Murtagh,  a  mem- 
ber of  an  extensive  and  wealthy  manufacturing  firm  in  the 
west  of  Ireland,  this  decision,  and  all  the  important  results 
that  followed  upon  it,  were  most  largely  due.  He  was 
widely  popular  in  the  county.  Whether  as  a  member  of  the 
county  cricket  club,  bat  in  hand,  or  at  a  hurling-match  with 
the  peasantry,  or  twirling  a  blackthorn  in  a  "  little  misunder- 
standing" at  fair  or  market,  he  was  equally  at  home.  He 
took  strong  ground  against  any  course  that  would  inevitably 
challenge  a  conflict  with  the  clergy,  but  was  decidedly  for 
unfurling  the  National  flag.  Why  not,  he  asked,  give  up 
this  idea  of  running  a  Fenian  prisoner,  and  put  forward  a 
National  candidate  around  whom  all  might  rally  in  the  name 
of  Ireland  ?  Why  not  start  John  Martin  ?  The  esteem  in 
which  he  was  generally  held,  his  pure  and  unsullied  char- 
acter, his  sufferings  and  sacrifices,  marked  him  out  as  a  man 
by  whose  side  patriotic  Irishmen,  priests  and  laymen,  would 
readily  stand.     The  fact  of  Mr.  Martin's  absence  in  Amer- 


448  iV^^TT  IRELAND. 

ica  at  the  moment,  Mr.  Murtagh  pointed  out,  wouM  but 
make  the  compliment  to  him  more  striking  and  the  political 
event  more  signiificant. 

The  suggestion  M'as  accepted.  The  idea  of  proposing  a 
Fenian  prisoner  was  relincpiished.  The  men  of  Longford 
undertook  to  propose  Mr.  Martin, — the  extreme  party  not 
only  acquiescing  but  promising  to  work  for  him  as  heartily 
as  for  a  man  of  their  own.  The  proceedings  had  reached 
this  stage  before  I  was  made  aware  of  them.  One  morning 
in  the  first  week  of  December,  1869,  I  received  a  hurried 
despatch  from  J.  B.  Murtagh :  "  John  Martin  is  to  be  our 
man.  We  announce  you,  as  his  most  trusted  friend,  to  appear 
on  his  behalf.  Help  us  all  you  can.  Come  down  at  once." 
Next  post  came  a  letter  to  say  they  were  about  to  wait  upon 
the  Catholic  clergy,  whose  best  wishes  they  were  sanguine 
of  securing.  Their  astonishment  was  great  on  learning  that 
these  reverend  gentlemen  had  some  idea  of  putting  forward 
young  ]\Ir.  Greville-Xugent.  The_fact_that  they  were  vir- 
tually pledged  to  him — had^promised  him  the  seat — did  not 
come  out  for  a  few  days  subsequently.  Here  arose  a  singular 
complication,  a  conflict  that  was  eventually  carried  to  the 
bitterest  extremes.  It  is  very  likely  that  had  the  clergy 
thought  any  considerable  section  of  the  laity  desired  the 
return  of  John  Martin  they  would  have  hesitated — some  of 
them  would — before  they  involved  themselves  in  the  compli- 
mentary bestowal  of  the  seat  on  Mr.  Nugent.  It  is  more 
than  probable  that  had  the  National  party  known  at  first  how 
far  the  clergy  were  really  committed  to  Mr.  Nugent  they 
would  have  ^'  thought  three  times"  before  they  raised  a  contest, 
incensed  as  they  might  feel  at  such  a  proceeding.  Which  side 
was  now  to  give  way?  "Oh,"  said  the  Nationalists,  "  on  the 
public  announcement  of  John  Martin's  candidature  the  opin- 
ion of  the  country  will  so  unmistakably  manifest  itself  that 
the  monstrous  idea  of  pitting  an  unknown   youth   against 


LONGFORD.  449 

him  will  be  abandoned."  "  Oh,"  said  the  priests,  "  we  are 
the  depositaries  of  power.  The  seat  is  in  our  hands.  The 
moment  we  put  forward  our  man,  the  hopelessness  of  opposing 
hira  will  be  so  patent  that  the  others  will  retire." 

I  saw  what  was  likely  to  arise  out  of  this  difficulty,  and  I 
made  great  exertions  to  compose  it.  Not  that  I  could  be  for 
a  moment  indifferent  between  the  two  candidates ;  but  I  hoped 
that  by  temperately  putting  before  the  clergy  the  serious  issues 
involved,  they  would  either  withdraw  Mr.  Nugent,  or,  in  a 
friendly  spirit,  let  the  people  poll  for  John  Llartin  if  so 
minded.*  Unfortunately,  they  took  a  high  and  haughtj."  tone. 
For  sufficient  reasons  they  had  selected  Mr.  Nugent,  and  they 
would  put  down  any  attempt  to  thwart  their  action.  This 
Martin  candidature,  they  said,  was  "  Fenianism,"  and  they 
would  crush  it  under  foot.  The  priests  of  Longford  would 
show  their  power. 

"  But  even  suppose  you  vote  for  your  man,  and  support 
him  fairly,  you  surely  do  not  mean  that  we  who  love  and 
revere  John  Martin,  and  wish  to  see  this  honor  conferred  on 
him,  are  not  free  to  push  his  candidature  ?" 

"  We  will  let  you  see  that,"  said  the  clergy. 

Here  in  the  face  of  the  empire  was  an  issue  raised  the 
importance  of  which  to  Ireland  was  serious.  Here  was  the 
critical  moment  to  verify  or  refute  the  _gtory  that  Irish 
Catholics  would  l^b'ndlv  ynfp  nt  fjie  priests'  dictation.  No 
one  raised  any  question  as  to  the  public  and  personal  merits 
of  tiie  two  candidates.  The  idea  of  weighing  young  Mr. 
Greville-Nugent  against  John  Martin  was  too  absurd,  and  it 
was  not  attempted  on  either  side.  The  whole  case  was  nar- 
rowed to  the  one  point, — accepting  Mr.  Greville-Nugent 
because  the  priests  had  so  determined  it,  rejecting  John 
Martin  at  the  bidding  of  the  Longford  clergy. 

*  This  latter  course  was  adopted  with  the  best  results  by  the  Catholic 
clergy  of  Meath  in  an  almost  identical  difficulty  some  time  afterwards. 
2d  38* 


450  -^'STF  IRELAND. 

"  Fight,  fight !"  I  cried,  when  the  answer  of  hanghty  de- 
fiance was  reported  to  me.  "It  will  be  a  war  as  cruel  as  one 
between  father  and  son,  brother  and  brother ;  but  we  must 
fight  to  the  last  gasp.  No  retreat,  no  compromise  now. 
These  men  do  not  see  that  surrender  on  our  part  would  cor- 
roborate one  of  the  most  fatal  imputations  against  them  and 
against  us,  namely,  that  we  would  '  vote  black  \vhite'  at  their 
bidding.  If  we  yield  on  this  point,  what  Protestant  Irishman 
can  trust  us  as  fellow-citizens?  If  we  poll  but  a  dozen  men, 
we  must  meet  this  issue  foot  to  foot.  It  is  not  now  so  much 
a  question  of  returning  John  Martin,  as  of  asserting  an  im- 
portant public  principle." 

It  was  with  a  good  deal  of  incredulity  that  Protestants 
watched  the  early  stages  of  this  Longford  business.  That  it 
would  end  in  the  submission  of  the  National  party  to  the 
clergy  they  quite  concluded.  That  the  people  would  perse- 
vere, that  the  Catholic  laity  would,  for  an  Ulster  Presbyterian 
candidate,  dare  to  encounter  their  own  clergy  on  the  hustings 
and  in  the  polling-booth,  was  something  too  improbable  to  be 
seriously  dwelt  upon.  Had  not  the  Catiiolic  pj'iests  for  thirty 
years  been  virtually  the  returning  officers  of  Irish  LTBeral 
constituencies?  TheX'atlioiic  gentry  had  no  doubt  occasionally 
disputed  supremacy  with  them ;  but  when  had  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  electors  themselves  ever  clainied  tlie  right  to  inde- 
pendent action?  Was  it  not  an  accepted_cii§tom  in  Irish 
politics  that  the  priests  selected  the  candidate,  and  the  people 
voted  at  their  bidding? 

One  section  of  the  community,  beyond  all  others,  fastened 
on  Longford  an  eager  gaze,  watched  every  move  of  this  sin- 
gular event  with  breathless  anxiety.  It  was  to  be  for  them  the 
solution  of  a  critical  problem,  the  decision  of  a  momentous 
question.  Irish  Protestants,  whom  recent  events  had  so  pow- 
erfully affected,  had  been  brought  as  it  were  to  the  very 
threshold  of  National  opinions,  looked  on  amazed  and  ex- 


LONGFORD.  451 

pectant.  Could  it  be  that  their  terror  of  "  priestly  dictation" 
was  about  to  be  dispelled?  Could  it  be  that  on  a  purely 
political  issue  Catholics  would  claim  and  assert,  even  against 
their  own  clergy,  an  independence  of  action  which  Protestants 
themselves  could  not  exceed  ?  If  this  were  so,  an  important 
political  combination  was  near  at  hand. 

It  was  so.  Neither  the  Irish  Protestants  nor  the  Longford 
Catholic  clergy  were  fully  conscious  of  the  change  from  the 
Ireland  of  1840  to  the  Ireland  of  1870. 

The  quarrels  of  long-time  friends  are  often  the  most  bitter 
of  all.  This  contest  between  priest  and  people  was  fought 
with  a  fierceness  which  surpassed  the  struggles  between  Tory 
landlordism  and  popular  power.  The  clergy  put  forth  their 
utmost  exertions ;  and  they  carried  with  them  the  bulk  of 
the  rural  electors.  The  Catholic  Liberals  among  the  gentry 
of  course  were  with  Lord  Greville  to  a  man.  The  local  Con- 
servatives, perplexed  and  half  incredulous,  were  neutral,  or 
else  supported  the  Martin  side.  Some  of  them  tool<  this 
latter  course  to  spite  the  priests  and  Mr.  Gladstone ;  many 
did  so  from  sincere  and  honorable  sympathy  with  the  princi- 
ples of  tolerance  and  civil  liberty  which  in  their  judgment 
underlay  the  conflict. 

I  had  been  all  my  life  on  the  side  of  the  Catholic  clergy. 
On  nearly  every  public  issue  in  Irish  politics  till  now  I  had 
fought  where  they  led.  I  was  "  Ultramontane"  in  the  most 
extreme  application  of  that  term.  I  honored  and  admired 
the  spirit  in  which  on  the  whole  the  Catholic  priests  had 
exercised  the  political  leadership  or  influence  which  historical 
circumstances  had  placed  in  their  hands.  I  had  resisted,  and 
would  ever  resist,  attempts  to  exclude  them  from  political 
action,  or  to  deny  their  right  to  be  largely  deferred  to  in 
public  affairs.  All  I  hoped  from  the  Longford  clergy  now 
was  that  they  would,  on  the  question  of  John  Martin  or 
Reginald  Gh-eville-Nugent,  grant  us  the  right  to  differ.     My 


452  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

hope  was  rudely  dispelled.  I  had  the-4ileasure  of  hearing 
myself  denounced  by  them  as  a  "  Garibaldian,"  an  "  Orange- 
man." Of  course  to  none  "Cut  the  most  ignorant  of  the 
population  could  such  stories  be  told ;  and  these,  poor  fel- 
lows, their  feelings  intensely  aroused  by  the  idea  of  "  Dublin 
Orangemen"  coming  to  "  attack"  their  clergy,  burst  upon 
the  Martin  meetings  in  savage  fury.  "  Away  with  the  Gari- 
baldian crew  who  want  to  murder  our  clergy !     Greville  for- 


ever 


r" 


The  mobs  were  not  all  on  one  side ;  nor  was  all  the  vio- 
lence of  language  and  action.  The  county  from  end  to  end 
was  the  scene  of  disorder  and  conflict.  The  people,  however, 
seemed  to  take  to  it  rather  familiarly.  Work  was  suspended. 
Blackthoras  aod-shiHelaghs  \vere  in  rec^uest.  Sticking-plaster 
was  extensively  worn.  It  was  hazardous  to  walk  street  or 
highway  at  night,  as  some  patrolling  party  was  sure  to  be 
encountered,  who  sang  out  "  Greville  ?"  or  "  Martin  ?"  If 
tEie  AVayfarer  responded  symjiathetically,  all  was  well.  If 
not,  a  scientific  touch  on  the  cranium  laid  him  recumbent  to 
study  the  pending  political  issues!  3ly  teotlier  informed  me 
that  he  found  "  committee-rooms"  were  places  where  piles  of 
"  weapons"  were  kept  for  defensive  and  offensive  operations. 
One  night  he  arrived  at  the  village  of  Ballymahon,  to  meet 
the  "committee"  and  go  over  the  registry.  The  "  committee" 
had  all,  evidently,  been  through  the  surgery.  They  discussed 
whisky  punch,  and  told  of  some  "  beautiful  practice"  they  had 
seen  on  the  part  of  a  few  "  Rathcline  boys"  a  day  or  two  pre- 
viously. Suddenly  there  was  a  quick  and  heavy  tramping  on 
the  stairs.  The  door  of  the  room  was  burst  open,  and  young 
John  Murtagh  rushed  in.  Deigning  no  glance  or  greeting, 
he  tore  off  his  top-coat,  exclaiming,  "Sticks!  Sticks!" 

In  an  instant  every  committee-man  had  sprung  to  a  corner 
of  the  room  where  some  "  neat  timber"  stood,  seized  a  black- 
thorn, and  dashed  down-stairs  and  into  the  street."   For  half 


LONGFORD.  453 

an  hour  or  so  it  was  evident  that  stiff  work  was  going  on. 
Then,  as  usual,  most  vexatiously,  the  police  interfered  and 
interrupted  an  exceedingly  satisfactory  encounter.* 

In  every  Irish  election  the^treei_baILad-singer  is  as  impor- 
tant  a  power  as  the  jSlatforni  orator  or  the  village  band,  and 
I  never  knew  an  Irish  election  poet  that  did  not  invoke  the 
"  Shan  Van  Vocht."  Literally  this  phrase  means  the  "  Poor 
Old  Woman,"  the  words  poor  and  old  being  applied  in  a 
tenderly  sympathetic  sense  ;  but  for  centuries  the  "  Shan  Van 
Vocht"  has  been  a  figurative  allusion  to  Ireland,  and  used 
as  a  refrain  in  popular  ballads  innumerable.  Of  course 
the  streets  and  roads,  the  fairs  and  markets,  of  Longford  re- 
sounded with  ballads,  chiefly  "  Martinite,"  the  bard  occasion- 
ally coming  in  for  a  touch  of  martyrdom.  One  of  these  lays, 
the  production  of  a  local  genius,  has  survived  in  my  posses- 
sion, and  I  quote  a  few  sample  verses : 

_ 

*  At  the  town  of  Granard  a  sort  of  challenge  battle  between  the  Gre- 
villites  and  Martinites  was  to  come  off.  The  parties  assembled,  to  the 
number  of  two  or  three  thousand  on  each  side ;  but  to  their  great  dis- 
comfiture a  largeTforce  of  foot  iind  Inounted  police  occupied  the  town, 
and  so  marched  and  countermarched  as  to  prevent  the  combatants  from 
getting  within  reach  of  each  other.  After  the  day  had  been  nearly 
"  wasted"  in  this  way,  the  leaders  on  each  side  contrived  to  throw  sig- 
nals of  parley  to  one  another.  They  quietly  slipped  away  for  a  moment, 
and  met  in  a  "  boreen"  close  by. 

"  This  is  too  bad." 

"Oh,  shameful!" 

"  No  chance  with  these  peeler  fellows." 

"None.     'Tis  disgusting!" 

"  I'll  tell  you  what.  There's  a  lovely  spot,  the  big  meadow  on  the 
Edgeworthstown  road,  half  a  mile  from  us.  Let  us  pretend  to  separate 
and  go  home,  but  agree  to  meet  there  in  half  an  hour  !" 

"Beautiful!     Just  the  thing  !" 

They  parted,  and  tried  the  manoeuvre  agreed  upon  ;  but  it  was  no  use; 
the  police  were  up  to  it,  and  the  belligerents  had  to  disperse  homewards 
in  good  earnest,  declaring  "  these  peelers"  a  great  nuisance  ! 


454  ^^^^^  IRELAND. 

"  Still  on  nomination  day, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht, 
Faith  'twas  better  than  a  play, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Yocht ; 
On  Longford  Bridge  the  fight 
"When  Drumlish  in  its  might 
Was  by  Martin's  put  to  flight, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Yocht. 

"  It  was  mighty  edifying, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht, 
To  see  sticks  and  stones  a  flying. 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht ; 
And  religion  went  astray, 
"With  Father  Felix  in  the  fray, 
Till  he  had  to  run  away, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht. 

"  Oh  !  the  bould  men  of  Kathcline, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht, 
On  that  morning  they  did  shine, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht ; 
And  the  boys  from  Curraghroe, 
With  Clondra  men  in  a  row, 
Oh  1  'tis  they  the  stones  can  throw. 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht." 

The  funds  required  for  the  Martin  candidature  -were  con- 
tributed by  public  subscriptions,  -which  poured  in  from  all 
parts  of  Ireland.  It  was  notable  that  a  great  portion  came 
from,  the  Catl^olic  c-lero-y.  They  deplored  the  error  of  their 
reverend  brot,}^rpn_in  Tiongford  ;  they  grieved  intensely  over 
the  conflict  we  had  raised,  but  quite  saw  that  of  two  evils 
acquiescence  in  that  error  would  be  much  the  greater.  As  a 
body  they  had  ever  exercised  the  popular  proxy  wisely  and 
unselfishly.  They  would  fearlessly  brave  popular  caprice  or 
unreason  ;  but  they  ambitioned  no  dominance,  they  shrank 
from  the  idea  of  wielding  the  clerical  power  in  opposition  to 
the  legitimate  freedom  of  their  flocks.  And  even  as  regards 
the  priests  of  Longford,  it  must  be  remembered  for  them  that 


LONGFORD.  455 

they  fought  very  much  on  a  point  of  honor  towards  Lord 
Greville.  They  were  no  bigots.  The  man  for  whom  they 
risked  and  lost  sq  much  in  this  conflict  was  "  Protestant  of 
the  Protestants." 

Thursday,  the  30th  of  December,  1869,  was  nomination- 
day,  and  on  the  previous  evening,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Ryan, 
a  Dublin  merchant  who  warmly  sympathized  in  the  Long- 
ford contest,  I  set  out  from  Dublin  in  order  to  represent  Mr. 
Martin  at  the  proceedings.  Telegrams  represented  Long- 
ford town  as  "  safe  for  Martin,"  and  the  secretary  of  the 
Amnesty  Association  in  Dublin  would  insist  on  sending 
down  along  with  us  a  brass  band,  with  gorgeous  baton  and 
big  drum  complete.  It  was  ten  o'clock  at  night  when  we 
reached  the  town,  and  above  the  noise  of  wheel  and  engine 
"we  could  hear  loud  shouting  as  the  train  pulled  up.  On 
the  platform,  with  faces  full  of  anxiety  and  alarm,  were  my 
brother,  Mr.  Hanly,  conducting  solicitor  for  Mr.  Martin,  and 
a  few  other  friends.  With  them,  evidently  looking  out  for 
me,  were  some  of  the  railway  officials. 

"What's  up?"  I  cried. 

"  U]) !  The  station  is  surrounded  by  a  Grevellite  mob. 
The  town  is  in  their  possession.  Word  was  wired  to  the 
enemy  from  Dublin  that  you  and  Mr.  Ryan  were  coming. 
Keep  quiet :  we  must  see  what  course  to  adopt." 

Yells  outside  the  station,  and  a  thundering  of  sticks  on  the 
gate,  lent  force  to  the  story. 

A  moment's  reflection  showed  the  best  course  to  be  a  start 
at  once,  along  with  the  other  passenger  arrivals,  for  the  vari- 
ous hotels.  To  remain  behind  was  to  increase  the  danger. 
Mr.  Ryan  and  I  jumped  into  a  cab  and  drove  off.  A  howl- 
ing mob,  sticks  in  hand,  surged  around,  peered  into  our  faces, 
but  hap[)ily,  not  recognizing  us,  let  us  pass  on.  We  reached 
our  hotel  in  safety.  Only  then  did  the  thought  strike  me, — 
what  of  my  brother  and  Mr.  Hanly  ?     "  They  will  be  mur- 


456  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

dered  if  they  attempt  to  leave  the  station,"  I  cried.  "And 
then  there  are  the  unfortunate  bandsmen  whom  Nolan,  con- 
found him,  would  insist  on  sending  down."  "  Oh,  be  sure 
they  will  be  kept  there  till  morning,"  rejoined  Mr.  Ryan. 
"  Don't  be  alarmed." 

Soon  we  heard  shouts  approaching,  and  the  noise  of  a  drum. 
After  a  while  the  street  outside  the  window  presented  a 
strange  sight.  The  mob  had  discovered  the  band  trying  to 
escape  by  a  back  way  from  the  station,  had  set  upon  and 
beaten  the  musicians,  and  captured  and  smashed  the  instru- 
ments. The  disjecta  membra  were  now  being  triumphally 
borne  through  the  town  as  trophies. 

While  I  was  gazing  with  amazement  at  the  scene,  my 
brother  and  friends  entered  the  room,  streaming  with  blood 
from  wounds  on  the  head.  They  had,  they  said,  fortunately 
escaped  very  well  on  the  whole.  The  chase  after  the  poor 
bandsmen  had  diverted  attention  from  tiiem,  and  they  had 
got  very  nearly  to  the  door  before  they  were  recognized. 

Next  morning  the  mobs  that  had  bivouacked  through  the 
night  around  large  fires  in  the  streets  prepared  for  the  great 
encounter, — the  fight  for  the  court-hojjj^e,  sn  ns  tn  secure  the 
"show  of  hands."  At  one  time  it  seemed  as  if  a  pitched 
battle  woiild  be  fought  outside  that  building.  Stones  flew 
through  the  air ;  the  crash  of  windows  and  the  shouts  of  com- 
batants were  heard  on  all  sides.  The  resident  magistrates  and 
county  inspector  of  police  behaved  with  great  coolness  and 
temper.  Mr.  Murtagh,  Mr.  Hanly,  my  brother,  and  myself 
succeeded  in  reaching  where  they  stood.  I  proposed  to  Mr. 
Talbot,  R,.!M^.  (now  Commissioner  of  Metropolitan  Police), 
that  if  he  would  see  fair  play  exercised  as  to  the  admission 
of  Mr.  jMartin's  friends  into  the  court-house,  we  would  call 
on  the  Martin  party  to  cease  all  conflict  and  retire  from  the 
town.  He  cheerfully  assented,  and  we  flung  ourselves  between 
the  combatants.     I  doubt  if  I  ever  had  such  close  escapes  of 


LONGFORD.  457 

fatal  injury  in  all  my  life  as  during  those  five  minutes.  We 
succeeded.  A  line  of  military,  with  fixed  bayonets,  was 
drawn  around  the  court-house,  and  detachments  of  Grevillites 
and  Martinites  admitted  in  turn.  The  former,  however,  suc- 
ceeded in  having  the  best  of  it.  When  I  came  forward  to 
speak  for  Mr.  Martin,  drawing  short  sticks  from  under  their 
vests,  the  Grevillites  in  the  body  of  the  court  dashfidat  the 
hustings  with  sayagejiries.  It  certainly  was  oratory  under 
difficulties.  Every  period  in  my  speech  was  marked  by  a 
crash  upon  the  wooden  panelling  in  front  of  where  I  stood, 
and  by  the  sweep  of  half  a  dozen  bludgeons  reaching  much 
nearer  to  my  head  than  was  at  all  calculated  to  increase  my 
composure. 

The  clergy  conquered  a^  the  polls.  John  Martin's  candi- 
dature was  defeated_  by _aD  over wjielniing  majority.  Mr. 
Greville-Nugent  was  returned  by  1478  votes  JXL.4LL     The 

day  was  lost,  yet  won^ The  object  we  had  striven  for  was 

virtually  attained.  Every  one  realized  the  importance  of  the 
struggle.  The  event  was  unique  in  Irish  politics.  Many 
of  us  Catholic  Nationalists  who  fought  the  fight  sorrowed 
to  think  that  the  adversaries  with  whom  this  conflict  had 
been  waged  were  our  own  priests,  whom  we  truly  loved. 
But  we  felt  that  one  of  the  first  conditions  of  our  national 
existence  was  at  stake.  Common  action  for  our  common 
country  would  be  impossible  between  us  and  our  Protestant 
fellow-citizens  if  we  had  surrendered  on  the  issue  raised  in 
this  struggle.  A  calumny  on  the  great  body  of  the  Catholic 
clergy  would  receive  a  certain  measure  of  corroboration — a 
distorted  view  of  their  action  in  politics  would  be  strengthened 
— if  we  allowed  the  error  of  the  Longford  priests  to  prevail 
unquestioned  in  the  face  of  Ireland.  We  looked  into  the 
future,  and  we  felt  that  time  would  vindicate  our  motives 
and  prove  the  wisdom  of  our  policy.  Nor  had  we  long  to 
wait  for  striking  results.     Irish  Protestants,  hesitating  no 

39 


458  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

further  in  distrust  or  doubt,  called  aloud  to  the  Catholic 
millions  that  the  time  had  come  for  reconciliation  and  union. 
With  a  quickness  that  was  marvellous  the  acerbities  of  sec- 
tarian antagonisms  seemed  to  vanish.  Already  from  Prot- 
estant lips  came  the  shout  of  "  Home  Rule !" 


CHAPTER    XXyill. 

"home  rule." 

On  the  evening  of  Thursday,  the  19th  of  May,  1870,  a 
strange  assemblage  was  gathered  in  the  great  room  of  the 
Bilton  Hotel,  Dublin.  It  was  a  private  meeting  of  some  of 
the  leading  merchants  and  professional  men  of  the  metrop- 
olis, of  various  political  and  religious  opinions,  to  exchange 
views  upon  the  condition  of  Ireland.  Glancing  around  the 
room,  one  might  ask  if  the  millennium  had  arrived.  Here 
were  men  of  the  most  opposite  parties,  men  who  never  before 
met  in  politics  save  as  irreconcilable  foes.  The  Orangeman 
and  the  Ultramontane,  the  stanch  Conservative  and  the 
sturdy  Liberal,  the  Nationalist  Repealer  and  the  Imperial 
Unionist,  the  Fenian  sympathizer  and  the  devoted  loyalist, 
sat  in  free  and  friendly  counsel,  discussing  a  question  which 
any  time  for  fifty  years  previously  would  have  instantly 
sundered  such  men  into  a  dozen  factions  arrayed  in  stormy 
conflict.  It  was  one  of  those  meetings  axiomatically  held 
to  be  "  impossible"  in  Ireland,  as  may  be  understood  by  a 
glance  over  the  subjoined  list  of  those  who  composed  it.  I 
indicate  in  most  instances  the  religious  and  political  opinions 
of  the  gentlemen  named,  and  include  a  few  who  were  added 
to  constitute  a  "  Committee  on  Resolutions." 

The  Kt.  Hon.  Edward  Purdon,  Lord  Mayor,  Mansion  House,  Prot- 
estant Conservative. 

Sir  John  Barrington,  ex-Lord  Mayor,  D.L.,  Great  Britain  Street, 
Prot.  Cons. 

E.  H.  Kinahan,  J. P.,  ex-High  Sheriff,  Merrion  Square,  Tory. 

James  V.  Mackey,  J. P.,  Beresford  Phice,  Orangeman. 

459 


460  A"£ir  IRELAND. 

James  W.  Mackey,  ex-Lord  Mayor,  J. P.,  40  TVestmoreland  Street, 
Catholic  Liberal. 

Sir  William  Wilde,  Merrion  Square,  F.E.C.S.L,  Prot.  Cons. 

James  Martin,  J. P.,  ex-High  Sherifl',  Xortli  Wall,  Cath.  Lib. 

Cornelius  Denehy,  T.C.,  J. P.,  Mountjoy  Square,  Cath.  Lib. 

W.  L.  Erson,  J. P.,  Great  Charles  Street,  Or. 

Kev.  Joseph  E.  Galbraith,  F.T.C.D.,  Trinity  College,  Prot.  Cons. 

Isaac  Butt,  Q.C.,  Eccles  Street,  Prot.  Nationalist. 

R.  B.  Butt,  Eccles  Street,  Prot.  Nat. 

R.  W.  Bojle,  Banker,  College  Green,  Tory. 

William  Campbell,  26  Gardiner's  Place,  Cath.  Lib. 

William  Daniel,  Mary  Street,  Cath.  Lib. 

William  Deaker,  P.L.G.,  Eden  Quay,  Prot.  Cons. 

Alderman  Gregg,  Sackville  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Alderman  Hamilton,  Frederick  Street,  Cath.  Repealer. 

W.  W.  Harris,  LL.D.,  ex-High  Sheriff  of  the  county  Armagh,  Ec- 
cles Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Edward  M.  Hodson,  Capel  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

W.  H.  Kerr,  Capel  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Major  Knox,  D.L.,  Fitzwilliam  Square  (proprietor  of  Irish  Times), 
Prut.  Cons. 

Graham  Lemon,  Town  Commissioner  of  Clontarf,  Tew  Park,  Prot. 
Cons. 

J.  F.  Lombard,  J.P.,  South  Hill,  Cath.  Repealer. 

W.  P.  J.  McDermott,  Great  Britain  Street,  Cath.  Rep. 

Alexander  McNeale,  104  Gardiner  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

W.  Maher,  T.C.,  P.L.G.,  Clontarf,  Cath.  Rep. 

Alderman  Manning,  J. P.,  Grafton  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

John  Martin,  Kilbroney,  "  Forty-eight"  Nationalist,  Presbyterian. 

Dr.  Maunsell,  Parliament  Street  (editor  of  Eveniiig  Mail),  Tory. 

George  Moj^ers,  Richmond  Street,  Or. 

J.  Nolan,  Sackville  Street  (Secretary  Fenian  Amnesty  Association), 
Cath.  Nat. 

James  O'Connor,  Abbey  Street  (late  of  L-ish  People),  Cath.  Fenian. 

Anthony  O'Neill,  T.C.,  North  Strand,  Cath.  Rep. 

Thomas  Ryan,  Great  Brunswick  Street,  Cath.  Nat. 

J.  H.  Sawyer,  M.D.,  Stephen's  Green,  Prot.  Nat. 

James  Reilly,  P.L.G.,  Pill  Lane,  Cath.  Nat. 

Alderman  Plunket,  James's  Street,  Cath.  Nat.  Rep. 

The  Venerable  Archdeacon  Goold,  D.D.,  MB.,  Prot.  Tory. 

A.  M.  Sullivan,  Abbey  Street,  Cath.  Nat.  Rep. 

Peter  Talty,  Henry  Street,  Cath.  Rep. 


''HOME  RULE."  461 

William  Shaw,  M.P.,  Beaumont,  Cork  (President  of  Munster  Bank), 
Prot.  Lib. 

Captain  Edward  R.  King-Harman,  J. P.,  Creevaghmore,  county  of 
Longford,  Prot.  Cons. 

Hon.  Lawrence  Harman  King-Harman,  D.L.,  Newcastle,  county  of 
Longford,  Prot.  Cons. 

George  Austin,  Town  Commissioner  of  Clontarf,  "Winstonville,  Prot. 
Cons. 

Dr.  Barry,  Eathmines,  Cath.  Lib. 

George  Beatty,  Henrietta  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

Joseph  Begg,  Capel  Street,  Cath.  Nat.  (Treasurer  of  Fenian  Amnesty 
Association). 

Robert  Callow,  Alderman,  Westland  Row. 

Edward  Carrigan,  Bachelor's  Walk,  Cath.  Lib. 

Charles  Connolly,  Rogerson's  Quay,  Cath.  Lib. 

D.  B.  Cronin,  Nassau  Street,  Cath.  Fenian. 

John  Wallis,  T.C.,  Batchelor's  Walk,  Prot.  Cons. 

P.  Walsh,  Merrion  Row,  Cath.  Nat. 

John  Webster,  Monkstown,  Prot.  Cons. 

George  F.  Shaw,  F.T. CD.,  Trinity  College,  Prot.  Cons. 

P.  J.  Smyth,  Dalkey,  Cath.  Nat.  Repealer. 

George  E.  Stephens,  Blackball  Place,  Prot.  Cons. 

Henry  H.  Stewart,  M.D.,  Eccles  Street,  Prot.  Cons. 

L.  J.  O'Shea,  J. P.,  Margaret  Place,  Cath.  Rep. 

Alfred  Webb,  Abbey  Street,  Nat.,  "Friend." 

"  What  can  we  do  for  Ireland  ?"  they  asked.  The  Prot- 
estant Conservatives  spoke  up.  Some  of  them  were  men  of 
large  property  as  country  gentlemen ;  others  were  among  the 
wealthiest  and  most  influential  merchants  of  the  metropolis. 
"  It  is  impossible  for  us,"  they  said,  "  to  view  the  events  of 
the  past  five  years  without  feeling  it  incumbent  on  us,  as  we 
value  the  welfare  of  our  country  and  regard  the  safety  and 
security  of  all  we  possess,  to  make  some  step  towards  a  recon- 
ciliation or  agreement  with  the  National  sentiment.  In  that 
sentiment,  as  we  understand  it,  there  is  much  we  can  never 
assent  to.  Some  of  the  designs  associated  with  it  shall  ever 
encounter  our  resistance.  But  we  have  never  concealed  from 
ourselves,  and  indeed  have  never  denied,  that  in  the  main 

39* 


462  -^^^  IRELAND. 

the  aspiration  for  national  autonomy  is  one  "which  has  sound 
reason  and  justice,  as  well  as  historical  right,  behind  it.  "We 
wish  to  be  frank  and  clear :  we  will  have  no  part  in  disloyal 
plans;  we  will  have  no  separation  from  England.  But  we 
feel  that  the  scheme  of  one  parliament  for  all  purposes,  im- 
perial and  local,  has  been  a  failure ;  that  the  attempt  to  force 
consolidation  on  the  Irish  people,  to  destroy  their  national 
individuality,  has  been  simply  disastrous.  However  attract- 
ive in  theory  for  imperial  statesmen,  that  project  has  utterly 
broken  down  in  fact  and  reality.  It  has  cost  us  perpetual 
insecurity,  recurrent  insurrection.  It  may  suit  English  poli- 
ticians to  cling  to  the  experiment  still,  and  pursue  it  through 
another  fifty  years,  always  'just  going  to  succeed  this  time;' 
but  for  us  Irish  Protestants,  whose  lot  is  cast  in  this  country, 
and  whose  all  in  the  world  is  within  these  seas,  it  is  time  to 
think  whether  we  cannot  take  into  our  own  hands  the  solution 
of  this  problem.  We  want  peace,  we  want  security,  we  want 
loyalty  to  the  throne,  we  want  connection  with  England  ;  but 
we  will  no  longer  have  our  domestic  affairs  committed  to  a 
London  parliament.  The  question  is  whether  we  can  agree 
upon  an  arrangement  that  would  harmonize  those  national 
aspirations  in  which  we  largely  participate  with  that  imperial 
connection  which  we  desire  to  retain." 

Such  was  the  tenor  and  substance  of  a  discussion  or  conver- 
sation which  extended  upwards  of  an  hour.  The  probability 
of  certain  taunts  being  levelled  at  them  was  discoursed  upon. 
"  It  will  be  said  we  are  uttering  these  sentiments  now  out  of 
spite  against  England  for  disestablishing  our  Church"  (which 
was  quite  true  of  some  of  them).  "  As  to  that,  we  freely  say 
two  considerations  have  hitherto  ruled  us.  First,  to  the 
covenant  with  England  in  reference  to  our  Church  we  cer- 
tainly were  faithful.  Some  of  us  regretted  that  bargain,  and 
boldly  avow,  now  that  England  has  violated  it,  that  we  feel 
more  free  as  Irishmen,  and  shall  be  none  the  worse  as  Protest- 


''HOME  RULE.''  463 

ants.  Secondly,  we  did  entertain,  no  doubt,  an  apprehension 
as  to  how  Roman  Catholics,  who  are  numerically  the  bulk  of 
this  nation,  might  exercise  their  political  power  under  the 
pressure  of  ecclesiastical  authority.  As  to  the  first  considera- 
tion, the  Act  of  Union  is  now  dissolved ;  the  covenant  has 
been  torn  up.  As  to  the  second,  reading  the  signs  of  the 
times,  we  believe  we  may  fearlessly  dismiss  the  sus^^icions 
and  apprehensions  that  have  hitherto  caused  us  to  mistrust 
our  Roman  Catholic  countrymen." 

Sitting  silently  observant  of  this  remarkable  scene  was  a 
man  who  perhaps  more  than  any  other  living  Irishman  held 
in  his  hands  the  political  destinies  of  the  country  at  that  mo- 
ment. Isaac  Butt  was  born  at  Glenfin,  county  Donegal,  in 
1815,  being  the  son  of  the  Protestant  rector  of  that  place. 
He  was  educated  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  where  he  rap- 
idly rose  to  distinction.  He  had  barely  passed  his  majority 
when  he  was  elected  to  the  professorship  of  political  economy 
in  the  University  of  Dublin.  He  was  called  to  the  bar  in 
November,  1838,  and  made  a  Queen's  Counsel  in  1844,  one 
of  the  few  Irish  advocates  who  wore  "silk"  at  the  age  of 
twenty-nine.  From  his  earliest  college  days  he  was  a  politi- 
cian, and  thirty  years  ago  was  the  rising  hope  of  the  Irish 
Protestant  Conservative  party.  He  was  their  youthful  cham- 
pion, selected  in  1844  to  do  battle  against  O'Connell  himself 
in  a  great  four-day  debate  on  Repeal  in  the  Dublin  Corpora- 
tion. All  Tory  as  young  Butt  was,  he  had  a  thoroughly 
Irish  heart,  and  an  intense  love  of  the  principles  of  liberty. 
In  the  debate  with  O'Connell,  it  is  remarkable  to  note  that 
he  confined  himself  almost  entirely  to  an  argument  that  the 
Union  experiment  had  not  been  fully  tried.  At  the  close  of 
the  encounter  his  great  antagonist,  after  paying  a  high  tribute 
to  his  genius,  prophesied  that  Isaac  Butt  would  one  day  be 
found  "  in  the  ranks  of  the  Irish  people."  Early  in  1852  he 
was  invited  by  the  English  Conservatives  to  stand  for  Har- 


464  ^EW  IRELAND. 

wich,  which  borough  he  represented  up  to  the  dissolution  in 
the  summer  of  that  year,  wlien  he  was,  as  we  have  noted 
elsewhere,  returned  for  Youghal.  At  the  bar  he  attained  to 
a  high  position.  He  took  a  leading  part  in  all  the  great 
trials,  civil  and  political,  from  1844  to  the  State  prosecutions 
just  concluded.  He  for  a  time  gave  himself  up  almost  ex- 
clusively to  a  parliamentary  career.  In  1864,  however,  he 
was  called  from  London  to  Ireland  to  conduct  one  of  the 
most  important  mercantile  causes  of  the  period.  At  its  close, 
instead  of  returning  to  parliamentary  pursuits,  he  ceased  to 
attend  the  House  of  Commons,  and  devoted  himself  more 
closely  than  ever  to  professional  labors.  In  1865  he  stood 
facile  princeps  in  the  front  rank  of  Irish  advocates.  The 
Fenian  prisoners,  beset  by  many  and  serious  difficulties  as  to 
their  defence,  turned  to  him  as  one  whose  name  alone  was  a 
tower  of  strength.  Not  in  vain  did  they  appeal  to  his  chiv- 
alrous generosity,  his  love  of  constitutional  liberty,  his  sym- 
pathy with  those  struggling  against  the  severities  of  power. 
He  flung  himself  with  ardor  to  their  side ;  and  once  his  feel- 
ings were  aroused  and  his  sympathies  enlisted  in  their  fate, 
he  never  gave  them  up.  For  the  greater  part  of  four  years, 
sacrificing  to  a  considerable  extent  a  splendid  practice  in  more 
lucrative  engagements,  he  buried  himself,  so  to  speak,  in  the 
prolonged  and  desperate  effort  of  their  defence.  No  wonder 
that  in  1868  he  had  earned  their  gratitude  and  won  their 
confidence.  Four  years  of  such  sad  work  meanwhile  wrought 
powerfully  with  his  sympathetic  nature.  In  1869  he  accepted 
the  position  of  President  of  the  Amnesty  Association,  and 
soon  became  the  one  great  figure  in  Irish  popular  politics. 

Immediately  on  the  fall  of  the  Irish  Church  he  saw  what 
was  coming  in  Ireland.  He  knew  the  feelings — the  fears, 
the  hopes,  the  questionings — that  surged  in  the  breasts  of  his 
fellow-Protestants.  He  determined  to  use  the  great  power 
which  now  rested  with  him  in  an  endeavor  to  close  forever 


''HOME  RULE."  465 

the  era  of  revolt  and  bloodshed,  to  unite  in  a  common  work  of 
patriotism  Irishmen  long  divided  by  class  and  creed  distinc- 
tions, and  to  establish  between  Ireland  and  England  a  union 
of  friendship  and  justice  which  might  defy  the  shocks  of  time. 

At  this  Bilton  Hotel  conference  he  listened  long;  to  the 
utterances  of  his  fellow- Protestants,  many  of  them  the  famil- 
iar associates  of  his  college  days.  He  marked  their  fears 
about  disloyalty,  their  apprehensions  that  the  Fenians  and  the 
Romanists  would  be  content  with  nothing  less  than  separa- 
tion. He  rose  to  his  feet  and  spoke  with  great  earnestness. 
"  It  is  we — it  is  our  inaction,  our  desertion  of  the  people 
and  the  country,  the  abdication  of  our  position  and  duties — 
that  have  cast  these  men  into  the  eddies  and  whirlpools  of 
rebellion,"  he  said.  "  If  you  are  but  ready  to  lead  them  by 
constitutional  courses  to  their  legitimate  national  rights,  they 
are  ready  to  follow  you.  Trust  me,  we  have  all  grievously 
wronged  the  Irish  Catholics,  priests  and  laymen.  As  for  the 
men  whom  misgovernment  has  driven  into  revolt,  I  say  for 
them  that  if  they  cannot  aid  you  they  will  not  thwart  your 
experiment.  Arise !  Be  bold !  Have  faith ;  have  confidence, 
and  you  will  save  Ireland ;  not  Ireland  alone,  but  England 
also!" 

He  concluded  by  proposing 

"  That  it  is  the  opinion  of  this  meeting  that  the  true  remedy  for  the 
evils  of  Ireland  is  the  establishment  of  an  Irish  parliament  with  full 
control  over  our  domestic  affairs." 

The  chairman  put  the  resolution  to  the  meeting.  "  As 
many  as  are  of  opinion  that  this  resolution  do  pass  say, 
'  Ay.'  "  A  shout  of  "  Ay"  rang  through  the  room.  "  The 
contrary  will  say, '  ]S"o.' "  Not  a  dissentient  voice  was  heard. 
Then  every  one,  greatly  astonished,  burst  into  a  cheer ;  the 
first  heard  that  evening,  so  grave  and  earnest  and  almost 
solemn  had  been  the  tone  of  the  deliberations. 
2e 


466  ^'^"'  IRELAND. 

This  was  the  birth  of  the  Irish  Home  Rule  movement. 

A  "Committee  on  Resolutions,"  comprising  all  the  par- 
ticipators in  the  private  conference,  was  charged  with  the 
difficult  and  delicate  task  of  formulating  the  national  demand 
which  they  proposed  to  recommend  to  the  country.  They 
carefully  disclaimed  for  themselves  any  representative  char- 
acter, or  any  right  to  speak  or  act  in  the  name  of  Ireland. 
They  proposed  merely  to  ascertain  what  support  such  a 
scheme  as  they  meditated  might  command,  with  the  view  of 
eventually  submitting  it  to  some  formal  assembly  competent 
to  speak  with  the  national  authority.  In  due  time  the  com- 
mittee reported  the  following  as  the  fundamental  resolutions 
of  an  organization  to  be  called  "  The  Home  Government 
Association  of  Ireland." 

"  I. — This  association  is  formed  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  for  Ire- 
land the  right  of  self-government  by  means  of  a  national  parliament. 

"  II. — It  is  hereby  declared,  as  the  essential  principle  of  this  asso- 
ciation, that  the  objects,  and  the  only  objects,  contemplated  by  its 
organization  are — 

"  To  obtain  for  our  country  the  right  and  privilege  of  managing  our 
own  affairs,  by  a  parliament  assembled  in  Ireland,  composed  of 
her  Majestj'  the  sovereign,  and  her  successors,  and  the  Lords  and 
Commons  of  Ireland  ; 

"To  secure  for  that  parliament,  under  a  federal  arrangement,  the 
right  of  legislating  for  and  regulating  all  matters  relating  to  the 
internal  affairs  of  Ireland,  and  control  over  Irish  resources  an^i 
revenues,  subject  to  the  obligation  of  contributing  our  just  pro- 
portion of  the  imperial  expenditure  ; 

"  To  leave  to  an  imperial  parliament  the  power  of  dealing  with  all 
questions  affecting  the  imperial  crown  and  government,  legislation 
regarding  the  colonies  and  other  dependencies  of  the  crown,  the 
relations  of  the  United  Empire  with  foreign  states,  and  all  matters 
appertaining  to  the  defence  and  the  stability  of  the  empire  at 
large. 

"  To  attain*  uch  an  adjustment  of  the  relations  between  the  two  coun- 
tries, without  any  interference  with  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown, 
or  any  disturbance  of  the  principles  of  the  constitution. 

"  III. — The  association  invites  the  co-operation  of  all  Irishmen  who 


''HOME  RULE.''  467 

are  willing  to  join  in  seeking  for  Ireland  a  federal  arrangement  based 
upon  these  general  principles. 

"  IV. — The  association  will  endeavor  to  forward  the  object  it  has  in 
view,  by  using  all  legitimate  means  of  influencing  public  sentiment,  both 
in  Ireland  and  Great  Britain,  by  taking  all  opportunities  of  instructing 
and  informing  public  opinion,  and  by  seeking  to  unite  Irishmen  of  all 
creeds  and  classes  in  one  national  movement,  in  support  of  the  great 
national  object  hereby  contemplated. 

"  V. — It  is  declared  to  be  an  essential  principle  of  the  association  that, 
while  every  member  is  understood  by  joining  it  to  concur  in  its  general 
object  and  plan  of  action,  no  person  so  joining  is  committed  to  any  po- 
litical opinion,  except  the  advisability  of  seeking  for  Ireland  the  amount 
of  self-government  contemplated  in  the  objects  of  the  association." 

This  was  not  "  Repeal,"  as  O'Connell's  scheme  was  loo.sely 
and  imperfectly  called.  O'Connell  entirely  avoided  defining 
his  plan  of  arrangement.  By  "  Repeal"  he  caused  the  people 
to  understand  the  one  simple  fact  that  the  illegal  overthrow  of 
the  Irish  constitution  in  1800  was  to  be  undone.  But  in  1844 
he  knew  right  well  that  reverting  to  the  state  of  things  pre- 
vious to  1800  would  in  many  respects  be  impossible,  and  in 
others  mischievous.  He  knew  that  many  international  ar- 
rangements, compromises,  checks,  and  counterpoises  would 
have  to  be  agreed  upon  ;  but  he 'never  attempted  to  outline  or 
define  any  plan.  This  vagueness,  while  on  the  one  hand  it 
saved  him  from  attack  on  details  as  well  as  principles,  on 
the  other  gave  room  for  Protestant  alarm  and  apprehension. 
Repeal  plus  all  the  changes  of  the  past  forty  years  was  very 
nearly  separation ;  and  O'Connell  would  not  show  his  hand 
as  to  future  details  or  guarantees. 

This  new  plan  of  the  Home  Government  assocfation  took 
the  other  course.  It  attempted  to  suggest  or  indicate  the 
nature  of  the  arrangements  under  which  the  unity  of  the 
empire  might  be  secured  equally  with  Irish  management  of 
Irish  affairs.  In  this  sense  it  was  at  once  less  and  more  than 
"  Repeal."  The  pre-Union  system  had  two  serious  faults, — 
one  hazardous  to  the  English  connection,  the  other  perilous  to 


468  J\"£ir  IRELAND. 

Irish  liberties.  The  voting  of  Irish  supplies,  not  merely  for 
domestic  but  general  and  imperial  purposes,  the  voting  of 
men,  money,  or  material  for  the  navy  and  the  army,  lay  alto- 
gether with  the  Irish  parliament.  This  was  a  state  of  things 
too  uncertain  and  dangerous  for  British  ministers  to  be  really 
content  with.  It  was  a  perpetual  inducement,  in  the  interests 
of  imperial  unity  and  safety,  to  a  consolidation  of  the  parlia- 
ments. On  the  other  hand,  the  Irish  parliament  had  no  re- 
sponsible ministry.  Its  vote  was  as  powerless  to  remove  a 
cabinet  as  to  stir  the  Hill  of  Howth.  The  result  was  a 
standing  menace  to  the  freedom  of  the  assembly.  The  min- 
istry might  openly  engage  (as  it  often  did)  in  the  most  violent 
and  corrupt  attempts  to  purchase  a  majority  in  the  chamber, 
and  yet  the  chamber  itself  could  by  no  vote  of  "  want  of 
confidence"  remove  that  ministry  from  power. 

The  great  feature  in  the  Home  Government  Association 
scheme  was,  on  the  one  hand,  it  oifered  to  surrender  the  Irish 
control  over  imperial  sui>plies,  and,  on  the  other,  claimed  a  re- 
sponsible Irish  administration.  All  that  related  to  imperial 
concerns  was  left  to  the  imperial  legislature ;  all  that  related 
to  domestic  Irish  affairs  was  claimed  for  an  Irish  parliament. 

But  what  are  "  local"  and  what  are  "  imperial"  affairs? 
asked  hostile  critics,  anxious  to  draw  Mr.  Butt  into  a  battle  on 
details.  That  may  or  may  not  be  a  difficult  point  of  arrange- 
ment between  the  countries  when  they  come  to  adjust  such  mat- 
ters, was  his  reply :  such  points  have  been  easily  settled  else- 
where, and  they  will  not  defy  the  ability  of  English  and  Irish 
statesmen"  when  the  time  arrives  for  considering  them  here. 

Conscious  of  the  difficulties  surrounding  them,  the  leaders 
of  the  new  society  pushed  their  way  very  diffidently  and 
tentatively  at  first.  They  were  assailed  from  the  opposite 
poles  of  politics, — by  the  imperialist  Conservatives  and  the 
Catholic  Liberals.  The  Catholic  bishops  and  clergy,  full  of 
gratitude  to  Mr.  Gladstone  for  the  great  work  he  had  just 


"HOME  RULE."  4g9 

accomplished,  could  hardly  be  expected  to  regard  with  pa- 
tience a  proceeding  which  looked  so  like  a  mere  Tory  trick. 
It  was  all  an  Orange  plot,  they  thought,  to  spite  the  Liberal 
Government  that  had  settled  the  Church  question  and  was 
about  to  settle  the  Education  question.  The  Tory  imperialists, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  filled  with  alarm.  This  new  associ- 
ation was,  they  declared,  a  device  of  the  Jesuits  to  lay  hold 
of  Protestants  at  such  a  moment  and  apprentice  them  to 
sedition  and  disloyalty.  "You  are  in  the  toils  of  Orange- 
ism,"  cried  the  Whig  Evening  Post  to  the  Catholics.  "  You 
are  the  dupes  of  Cardinal  Culleu,"  cried  the  Conservative 
Daily  Express  to  the  Protestants. 

The  new  movement  made  steady  progress.  The  mistrust 
and  hostility  of  the  Catholic  Liberals,  especially  of  the  Cath- 
olic clergy,  proved  to  be  its  most  serious  hindrance.  The  pop- 
ular sentiment,  however,  went  at  once  and  strongly  with  the 
association  ;  and  four  "  bye-elections,"  which  occurred  in'1871, 
gave  striking  proof  of  the  depth  and  force  of  the  national  feel- 
ing. These  were  the  return  of  Mr,  John  Martin  for  Meath, 
Mr.  Mitchell-Henry  for  Gal  way,  Mr.  P.  J.  Smyth  for  West- 
meath,  and,  crowning  all,  Mr.  Butt  for  Limerick.  Mr.  Mar- 
tin's opponent  M'as  the  Hon.  Mr.  Plunkett,  brother  of  Lord 
Fiugall,  a  Catholic  nobleman  warmly  esteemed  by  the  whole 
Catholic  community.  The  Catholic  clergy  had  espoused 
Mr.  Plunkett's  candidature  before  Mr.  JNIartin's  had  been 
suggested.  On  the  appearance  of  the  latter  they  at  once  an- 
nounced that  they  would  do  their  best  fairly  for  the  man  to 
whom  they  were  pledged,  but  would  have  no  quarrel  with 
their  people  if  the  latter  honestly  and  freely  preferred  John 
Martin.  Few  persons  believed  Mr.  Martin  had  any  chance 
of  success;  least  of  all  did  Mr.  Plunkett.  On  the  hustings 
the  former  gentleman  declared  he  had  no  ambition  to  enter 
Parliament,  and  would  rather  Mr.  Plunkett  went  in  unop- 
posed, "if  only  he  would  declare  for  Home  Rule;"  in  which 

40 


470  ^^^  IRELAND. 

case  he,  Mr.  Martin,  would  retire  ou  the  instant.  Mr. 
Plunkett  laughed  in  a  good-natured  and  kindly  way  at  this 
offer  of  a  seat  which  he  regarded  as  already  his  own.  Great, 
however,  was  his  dismay  to  find  at  the  close  of  the  booths 
that  the  derided  Home  Ruler  polled  two  votes  to  his  one, 
and  that  John  Martin  was  Knight  of  the  Shire  for  "  Royal 
Meath." 

Scarcely  less  encouraging  to  the  Home  Rulers  was  the 
election  in  Galway,  considering  the  man  whose  adhesion  it 
signalized.  Mr.  Mitchell-Henry  was  son  of  ^Mr.  Alexander 
Henry,  one  of  the  merchant-princes  of  Manchester,  for  many 
years  member  of  Parliament  for  South  Lancashire.  Mr. 
Henry,  senior,  was  an  Irishman  :  the  family  have  occupied 
an  honorable  position  in  Ulster  for  two  centuries.  Some  of 
them  settled  in  America :  Patrick  Henry  of  the  Revolution, 
and  Alexander  Henry,  the  well-known  philanthropist  of 
Philadelphia,  were  relatives  of  the  late  member  for  South  Lan- 
cashire. Mr.  Mitchell-Henry,  who  was  born  in  1826,  early 
devoted  himself  to  medical  science,  and  for  fifteen  years  was 
consulting  surgeon  to  the  Middlesex  Hospital.  On  the  death 
of  his  father  in  1862  he  inherite<l  a  considerable  fortune,  and 
retired  from  professional  practice.  He  was  greatly  struck 
with  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  at  Kylemore,  in  Galway.  He 
l)urchased  the  entire  district,  and  built  there  Kylemore  Castle, 
one  of  the  wonders  of  the  West, — a  fairy-palace  in  the  Conne- 
mara  Highlands.  He  became  not  only  attached  to  the  place 
but  to  the  people.  Protestant  as  he  was,  in  the  midst  of  a 
strongly  Celtic  and  Catholic  j)easantry,  he  found  that  his  re- 
ligious opinions  raised  no  barrier  between  him  and  the  confi- 
dence and  aftections  of  this  simple  and  kindly  race.  Ere 
long  his  sympathy  with  the  people,  his  uprightness,  his  liber- 
ality, were  the  theme  of  praise  in  even  the  humblest  homes 
from  Clifden  to  Lough  Corrib.  He  was  known  to  be  a  man 
of  considerable  intellectual  ability,  great  independence,  and 


''HOME  RULE."  471 

firmness  of  character.  When  he  issued  his  address  for  Gal- 
way  County  in  February,  1871,  as  an  advocate  for  domestic 
legislation,  and  was  returned  without  a  contest,  the  incident 
created  quite  a  stir  in  the  world  of  Irish  politics. 

In  the  following  June  a  vacancy  occurred  in  the  represen- 
tation of  Westmeath  County,  and  Mr.  P.  J.  Smyth,  a  leading 
member  of  the  Home  Government  Association,  offered  him- 
self as  a  candidate.  Mr.  Smyth  M'as  one  of  the  Confederate 
fugitives  in  1848.  He  escaped  to  America,  as  mentioned  in 
a  previous  chapter,  and  in  that  country  devoted  himself  for 
some  time  to  journalism.  In  1854  some  ardent  friends  of  the 
Irish  State  prisoners  (Smith  O'Brien,  Meagher,  Mitchel,  etc., 
then  undergoing  their  sentences  in  Australia),  struck  by  the 
successful  escape  of  MacManus,  formed  a  plan  and  found  the 
requisite  funds  for  effecting  the  rescue  of  the  others,  one  by 
one.  Mr.  Smyth  was  selected  as  the  agent  to  carry  out  this 
daring  purpose;  and  the  result  amply  justified  the  confidence 
thus  placed  in  his  courage  and  devotion.  He  proceeded  to 
Australia,  where  he  arranged  and  personally  conducted  the 
escapes  of  Meagher  and  Mitchel.  He  was  on  his  way  thither 
a  third  time,  I  believe,  to  bring  off  O'Brien,  when  a  pardon 
reached  the  latter  gentleman.  In  1856  Mr.  Smyth  returned 
to  Ireland  and  soon  after  joined  the  Irish  press,  later  on  en- 
tering the  legal  profession  as  barrister.  He  was  a  man  of 
marked  ability,  a  polished  orator,  and  an  able  writer;  and 
his  uncontested  return  on  this  occasion  for  Westmeath,  fol- 
lowing as  it  did  upon  the  Meath  and  Gal  way  elections,  gave 
the  new  association  a  notable  triumph. 

In  September  came  the  crowning  victory  of  the  year,  in 
the  unopposed  return  for  Limerick  of  Mr.  Butt,  already  the 
recognized  leader  of  the  movement. 

As  if  irritated  by  these  events,  Irish  Liberalism  towards 
the  end  of  1871  seemed  to  pull  itself  together  for  a  serious 
-resistance  to  the  Home  Rule  "  craze,"  as  it  was  called.     In 


472  ^EW  IRELAND. 

the  opening  part  of  1872  ^xe  found  ourselves  hard  pressed  in 
many  places.  We  could  note  by  many  signs  that  the  expec- 
tation of  a  Catholic  University  scheme  at  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Gladstone  was  having  a  powerful  effect  with  some  of  the 
Catholic  bishops  and  clergy.  Important  organs  of  public 
opinion  known  to  be  influenced  by  leading  members  of  the 
episcopacy  began  to  draw  ofp  from  the  movement,  and  to  say 
that  tlie  demand  for  Home  Rule  was  no  doubt  very  right 
and  just,  but  it  was  "  inopportune."  One  thing  at  a  time. 
Until  the  Catholic  Education  question  had  been  settled,  no- 
thing else  should  be  taken  in  hand.  Home  Rule  ought  to 
be  "  postponed." 

At  this  the  Protestants  in  the  new  association  started  like 
men  on  whom  suddenly  flashes  the  recollection  of  gloomy 
warnings.  Was  not  this  what  had  been  prophesied  to  them  ? 
Were  the  Catholics  going  to  betray  the  ciuise  ? 

The  answer  came  from  Kerry  and  Gal  way  Counties. 

In  December,  1871,  on  the  death  of  the.Earl  of  Kenraare, 
his  son.  Viscount  Castlerosse,  then  member  of  Parliament  for 
Kerry,  succeeded  to  the  peerage  and  estates.  The  Kenmare 
family  are  Catholics.  They  are  resident  landlords, — a  class 
happily  numerous  in  Kerry, — and  have  long  been  esteemed 
as  among  the  best  of  the  good  ^^y.th*^  ppnplt^  gi'^^nnd  them. 
For  nearly  thirty  years  there  had  been  no  contest  for  the  rep- 
resentation of  that  county.  The  territorial  magnates  of  the 
two  great  political  parties.  Liberal  and  Conservative,  by  a 
tacit  or  express  compact  peaceably  divided'  the  representa- 
tion between  them.  One  of  the  two  county  seats  went  to  the 
Liberal-Conservative,  Mr.  Herb^-t  oflNIuckross,  and  was 
transmitted  from  sire  to  son.  The  other  was  the  family  seat 
of  the  Catholic  Liberal  Eiirl  of  Kenmare,  long  held  by  the 
next  heir  to  the  coronet.  It  seemed  to  be  quite  clearly  under- 
stood that  a  sort  of  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  existed 
between  both  parties,  to  the  end  that  the  combinetl  forces  of 


''HOME  RULE.''  473 

Liberal  and  Conservative  landlordism  would  resist  any  attempt 
of  third  parties  to  disturb  this  arrangement. 

When  towards  the  close  of  1871  Lord  Castlerosse  became 
Earl  of  Kenraare,  his  eldest  son  was  quite  too  young  to  take 
the  seat  he  vacated  as  county  member ;  and  accordingly  he 
selected,  as  the  family  representative,  his  cousin,  Mr.  James 
Arthur  Lease,  a  highly  respected  and  influential  Catholic 
gentleman  resident  in  Westmeath.  Usually  this  transfer 
would  be  a  matter  of  course;  but  now  it  was  the  turn  of 
Kerry  to  show  that  a  New  Ireland  had  come  into  existence. 
From  various  parts  of  the  county  arose  reclamations  against 
this  mode  of  disposing  of  the  representation.  It  was  sub- 
mitted that  the  people  were  not  to  be  ignored  in  this  fashion. 
The  Ireland  of  to-day  was  not  the  Ireland  of  thirty  years 
ago.  Lord  Kenmare  they  greatly  respected ;  but  a  political 
trust  was  not  to  be  treated  as  a  family  appanage.  They 
would  select  a  candidate  for  themselves;  and  he  should  be 
one  who  in  the  name  of  Kerry,  the  county  of  O'Connell, 
would  proclaim  the  unalterable  determination  of  the  Irish 
people  to  recover  their  constitutional  liberties. 

Sooth  to  say,  these  manifestations  in  Kerry  occasioned  at 
first  uneasiness  rather  than  satisfaction  among  the  Home 
Rule  leaders  in  Lublin, — so  adverse  did  they  think  the 
chances  of  any  successful  movement  under  existing  circum- 
stances in  that  county,  and  so  damaging  would  a  heavy  blow 
at  that  critical  juncture  in  all  likelihood  have  been.  The 
men  of  Kerry,  however,  are  a  sensitive  and  high-spirited 
people.  Their  pride  was  touched ;  their  patriotism  was 
roused.  They  selected  as  their  standard-bearer  a  young 
Protestant  gentleman  barely  returned  from  Oxford,  and  not 
more  than  a  month  or  two  past  his  majority, — Roland  Pon- 
sonby  Blemierhassett.  of  Kells,  near  Cahirciveen. 

A  shout  of  contemptuous  derision  burst  from  the  Whig- 
Liberal  Catholics  all  over  Ireland.     What !     Lream  of  op- 

40* 


474  ^'EW  IRELAND. 

posing  the  nominee  of  Lord  Kenraare  in  Kerry !  True  to 
the  spirit  of  the  alliance  compact,  the  Tory  and  Whig  land- 
lords of  the  county  assembled,  and  in  a  combined  body  con- 
stituted themselves  an  election  committee  for  Mr.  Dease. 
At  their  head  stood  the  Catholic  Bishop,  the  Most  Rev.  Dr. 
Moriarty. 

Undeterred,  nay,  incited,  by  all  this,  the  great  body  of  the 
Catholic  clergy,  and  the  people  almost  to  a  man,  espoused 
the  cause  of  "  Blpmierhnssett  iind  HompJRiile."  The  Lib- 
eral press  and  politicians  all  over  the  kingdom,  confident 
that  victory  was  in  their  hands,  loudly  proclaimed  that  this 
was  to  be  the  great  test  election  between  Liberalism  and 
Home  Rule,  centralization  and  nationality;  and  they  invited 
the  empire  to  watch  the  result.  By  the  middle  of  January, 
1872,  the  struggle  had  assumed  national  significance  and 
importance.  The  London  Daily  Telegraph  declared  we  were 
"  on  the  eve  of  a  very  critical  test."  The  Daily  News  said, 
"The  contest  is  already  exciting  an  amount  .of  interest  in 
Ireland  hardly  equalled  there  since  O'Connell  contested  the 
county  of  Clare.  .  .  .  On  the  whole,  there  are  in  Kerry 
all  the  materials  of  a  struggle  the  result  of  which  every 
English  statesman  must  regard  as  important,  if  not  indeed 
momentous." 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1872,  the  Home  Rule  Council 
in  Dublin  was  specially  convened  to  consider  urgent  appeals 
from  Kerry  for  the  personal  presence  and  assistance  of  some 
of  its  members.  The  council  decided  that  the  fate  of  the 
whole  movement  seemed  so  largely  involved  in  the  issue  that 
the  entire  energies  and  resources  of  the  organization  must  be 
put  forth.  A  deputation  consisting  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  A. 
Galbraith,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  A.  M.  Sullivan,  and 
John  Overington  Blunden  was  named  to  proceed  forthwith 
to  Kerry.  It  was  "  death  or  glory."  They  were  charged  to 
return  "  bearing  their  shields,  or  borne  upon  them." 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE  KERRY   ELECTION. 

"  Well,  Sullivan,  this  is  a  serious  pull  that  is  before  us," 
said  the  Fellow  of  Trinity,  gravely,  as  we  seated  ourselves 
in  the  Killarney  train,  on  Friday  evening,  the  26th  of 
January,  1872. 

Trinity  College  has  played  a  great  part  in  the  history  of 
Ireland.  It  was  founded  as  an  exclusively  and,  if  I  may  so 
express  it,  aggressively  Protestant  institution,  some  three  hun- 
dred years  ago.  It  was  the  intellectual  citadel  of  Protestant 
ascendency ;  and  many  a  time  and  oft  have  the  Irish  Cath- 
olics heard  the  hard  dicta  of  intolerance  shouted  from  its 
portal.  Yet  to  this  day  there  is  scarcely  a  man  of  generous 
mind  or  breadth  of  view  among  them  who  is  not  proud  of 
"Old Trinity;"  proud  to  mark  the  high  place  it  holds  amidst 
the  schools  of  Europe ;  but,  above  all,  to  note  the  illustrious 
men  it  has  sent  forth,  in  Arts,  Letters,  Science,  Politics,  to 
lift  the  name  and  fame  of  Ireland.  For  at  least  forty  or  fifty 
years  it  has  been  not  only  strongly  conservative  but  imperialist ; 
yet  the  spirits  of  Grattan  and  Flood  and  Plunket  haunt  the 
old  scenes.  Ever  and  anon  Trinity  contributes  to  the  strug- 
gles of  Irish  nationality  some  of  its  ablest  and  most  gifted 
champions, — men  who  are  the  links  that  bind  creeds  and 
classes  in  community  of  public  feeling  and  action  and  prevent 
Irish  politics  from  becoming  a  mere  war  of  race  and  religion. 
Two  such  men  were  my  companions  on  this  journey.  One 
of  them  was  especially  notable. 

The  Rev.  Joseph  A.  Galbraith,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  filled  from  the  first  hour  a  foremost  place  in  the  new 

475 


476  ^^^^^  IRELAND. 

movement  of  constitutional  nationality.  His  scientific  at- 
tainments made  his  name  familiar  beyond  the  limits  of  our 
realm ;  and  among  the  Protestant  Conservatives  whom  the 
events  of  recent  years  had  brought  into  association  with  pop- 
ular politics,  there  was  scarcely  one  whose  adhesion  had  a 
greater  effect  on  social  and  public  opinion  in  Ireland.  How 
nmch  he  was  esteemed  and  trusted  by  his  co-religionists  was 
shown  by  the  fact  of  his  being  elected  year  by  year  to  one  of 
the  highest  honorary  positions  in  connection  with  the  Church 
Synod  and  the  "  Governing  body"  of  the  Protestant  Church 
in  Ireland.  He  was  one  of  the  gentlemen  present  at  the 
Bilton  Hotel  Conference  on  the  19th  of  May,  1870,  and, 
although  by  nature  intensely  averse  to  the  bustle  and  turmoil 
of  public  life,  he  faced  boldly  the  labors  incidental  to  a  prom- 
inent position  in  the  new  political  organization.  Being  re- 
quested to  proceed  along  with  ]\Ir.  Blunden  and  myself,  as 
representatives  of  the  association  in  the  Kerry  campaign,  he 
cheerfully  complied,  and  we  now  were  en  route  for  the  scene 
of  action. 

We  slept  at  Killarney  that  night,  and  proceeded  next 
morning  to  Tralee,  where  a  great  open-air  demonstration  was 
to  be  held  in  favor  of  the  National  candidate.  We  found  the 
county  town  in  a  state  of  passion,  denouncing  the  conduct  of 
the  borough  member,  who  had  "gone  over  to  the  enemy." 
Alas!  it  Avas  The  O'Donoghue,  the  popular  idol  of  yesterday, 
the  eloquent  advocate  of  Irish  independence!  It  was  as  if 
Hofer  had  suddenly  appeared  in  Botzen,  dressed  in  Bavarian 
livery,  leading  the  Munich  riflemen.  This  was  a  heavy  blow, 
a  sore  trial ;  but,  save  in  the  pain  of  feeling,  the  anguish  al- 
most, which  it  occasioned  the  people,  who  had  so  ilevotedly 
loved  the  now  converted  leader,  it  was  without  effect. 
Twenty-five  years  ago  such  a  man  would  have  carried  his 
county  or  borough  with  him,  as  a  Highland  chief  would 
carry  his  clan  from  one  camp  to  the  other.     Now  the  seces- 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  477 

sion  of  The  O'Donoghue  was  worth  scarcely  a  dozen  votes  to 
the  Earl  of  Kenmare. 

Mr.  Blennerhassett,  accompanied  by  an  immense  concourse, 
with  bands  and  banners,  awaited  our  arrival  at  the  station. 
It  was  with  much  difficulty  we  could  save  Mr.  Galbraith 
from  being  carried  oif  bodily  and  "  chaired"  on  their  shoul- 
ders by  the  enthusiastic  Popish  Kerry  men.  It  surely  was  a 
strange  sight,  this  Kerry  election  fight  of  1872.  Here  was 
one  of  the  most  Catholic  counties  in  Ireland  rallying,  priests 
and  people,  on  the  side  of  this  young  Protestant,  Roland 
Blennerhassett;  opposing  a  Catholic  candidate,  the  relative 
of  a  Catholic  nobleman  whom  they  one  and  all  personally 
esteemed !  With  nearly  everything  to  deter  them,  they 
pressed  on.  Leagued  against  them  was  the  entire  landlord 
power  of  the  county.  Whig  and  Tory,  Catholic  and  Prot- 
estant, with  barely  a  few  exceptions.  Their  bishop.  Dr. 
Moriarty,  and  several  of  their  parish  priests  were  violently 
opposing  them.  The  O'Connell  family  went  also  with  Lord 
Kenmare.  On  the  other  side  there  was,  however,  the  great 
fact  that  the  majority  of  the  Kerry  priests  were  enthusias- 
tically with  the  people.  The  national  sentiment  all  over  the 
kingdom  was  at  their  back.  Most  important  of  all,  the  lead- 
ing organs  of  popular  opinion  in  the  South  of  Ireland,  the 
Cork  Examiner  of  Mr.  John  Francis  Maguire,  M.P.,  and  the 
Cork  Daily  Herald,  scarcely  less  influential  in  its  cii-culation, 
were  thoroughly  on  the  popular  side.  Had  it  been  otherwise 
as  to  the  local  press,  had  Mr.  Maguire  helped  us  less  heartily, 
the  Kerry  election  might  not  have  been  won.  He  was  at  this 
time  the  leading  journalist  and  politician  of  Munster,  and  had 
for  years  been  a  prominent  figure  among  the  Irish  members 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  John  Francis  Maguire  was  born 
in  Cork  city  in  1815.  He  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1843. 
Long  previously,  however,  his  natural  inclinations  and  tastes 
led  him  to  literature  and  journalism.     In  1841  he  founded 


478  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

the  Cork  Examiner,  which  in  a  few  years  became  one  of  the 
most  important  and  influential  journals  in  Ireland.  He  was 
an  especial  favorite  and  intimate  friend  of  Father  Mathew, 
and  in  the  Temperance  and  Repeal  movements  from  1841  to 
1846  he  was  an  active  participator.  In  1852  he  was  returned 
to  Parliament  for  the  borough  of  Dungarvan,  which  he 
had  twice  previously  unsuccessfully  contested, — once  in  1847 
against  Richard  Lalor  Sheil,  and  once  in  1851  against  the 
Hon.  Ashley  Ponsonby.  He  remained  member  for  Dungar- 
van from  1852  to  1866,  when  he  was  returned  for  his  native 
city,  the  representation  of  which  he  held  thenceforth  until  his 
death  in  Xovember,  1872.  His  eloquence,  his  energy,  his 
marked  ability  brought  him  early  into  the  front  rank  of  the 
Irish  representation.  He  took  an  active  part  in  the  Tenant 
League  movement ;  and  on  the  disruption  caused  by  the 
Iveogh-Sadleir  episode,  he  was  found  with  Lucas  and  Moore 
and  Duf^"  vainly  endeavoring  to  repair  the  ruin  that  had 
fallen  on  the  tenants'  cause.  In  1852  he  was  elected  Mayor 
of  Cork,  and  was  the  author  and  chief  promoter  of  the  Indus- 
trial Exhibition  held  that  year  in  the  city.  In  the  midst  of 
a  busy  and  toilsome  career,  Mr.  Maguire  found  time  for  some 
contributions  to  literature.  His  best-known  work,  which 
earned  him  the  marked  personal  friendship  of  Pio  Nono,  was 
"  Rome  and  its  Rulers,"  first  published  in  1857  ;  "The  Irish 
in  America"  and  a  "  Life  of  Father  Mathew"  came  next, — the 
latter  one  of  the  most  interesting  pieces  of  biography  written 
in  our  day.  Although  an  ardent  Liberal,  and  slow  to  lend 
himself  to  new  political  ventures, — he  had  seen  the  rise  and 
fall  of  not  a  few, — Mr.  ^laguire  at  an  early  stage  of  the  Home 
Rule  movement  gave  it  a  firm  and  argumentative  support. 
No  sooner  had  the  Kerry  contest  assumed  the  proportions  of  a 
national  struggle  than  he  threw  himself  with  all  the  energy  of 
his  nature  into  a  fight  which  he  presciently  foretold  would  be, 
as  the  Daily  News  said, "  important,  if  not  indeed  momentous." 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  479 

Mr.  Galbraith  had  to  return  to  Dublin  in  a  few  days ;  but 
even  before  he  left  we  could  form  an  opinion  of  the  prospects 
of  the  fray.  "  Tell  them  all  in  Dublin,"  I  said,  "that  here 
I  mean  to  stay  to  the  end.  These  are  a  noble  people.  There 
is  victory  ahead." 

I  did  not  praise  them  too  highly,  nor  estimate  too  hopefully 
the  result  before  us.  I  had  often  seen  popular  feeling  dis- 
played, in  election  contests,  but  nothing  to  equal  this.  What 
struck  me  as  the  strangest  part  of  it  all  was  the  popularity 
of  Mr.  Blennerhassett,  or  "  Mr.  Hassett,"  as  he  was  called. 
He  must  have  been  personally  almost  unknown  to  the  bulk 
of  his  fellow-countrymen.  His  father — a  landed  proprietor 
in  the  west  of  Kerry,  where  the  family  settled  in  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth — had  died  while  he  was  a  child,  and  he  was  but 
a  youth  when  sent  away  to  Oxford  University.  Yet  the 
peasantry  spoke  of  him  and  to  him  in  the  language  of  homely 
affection.  The  "canvass"  was  a  triumphal  progress.  As  we 
drove  along  the  road  the  people  would  quit  fields  and  houses, 
stand  by  the  wayside  waving  green  boughs  and  shouting  salu- 
tations, or  else  run  by  the  carriage  just  to  press  his  hand. 
"  Ten  votes  in  this  town-land  for  you,  Mr.  Hassett.  Home 
Rule  forever !"  "  You  needn't  trouble  about  our  parish,  sir. 
Father  Michael — God  bless  him ! — and  all  of  us  are  with 
you."  As  we  passed  through  a  little  village  beyond  Killor- 
glin,  the  few  people  of  the  hamlet  who  had  votes  rushed 
around  to  "  give  their  names," — a  proceeding  they  seemed 
to  think  necessary.  One  peasant-woman  came  forward  with 
tears  in  her  eyes.  "  I  have  no  vote  that  I  can  give  you,  Mr. 
Hassett ;  but  I  give  you  my  prayers  every  day  that  God  and 
the  blessed  Virgin  may  be  on  your  side !"  The  most  primi- 
tive attempts  at  festal  display  met  our  view  in  the  wild  parts 
of  the  county.  Whenever  the  news  reached  that  at  no  matter 
what  hour  of  the  night  or  day  we  were  to  pass  the  way, 
signal-men  were  posted  on  hill  and  crag;  and  often  in  the 


480  ^^^  IRELAND. 

dead  of  night  we  could  hear  the  shout  passing  from  house 
to  house  along  mountain  and  valley, — "  Home  Rule  !  Home 
Rule !"  At  a  place  between  Dingle  and  Tralee,  miles  from 
a  second  human  habitation,  a  peasant-boy  of  fourteen,  lame 
and  using  a  crutch,  stood  by  the  roadside  close  by  his  father's 
cabin.  From  early  morning — having  heard  we  were  to  pass 
either  going  or  returning — he  had  watched  and  waited.  He 
had  erected  what  he  meant  as  a  "  banner."  Two  tall  osier 
rods  were  fastened  in  the  ground,  and  from  one  on  the  top, 
placed  laterally,  hung  a  piece  of  some  white  linen  garment. 
On  this  during  the  previous  week  he  had  laboriously  drawn 
with  ink  or  blacking  sundry  national  emblems,  and  in  large 
letters  "  Hurra  for  Blennerhassett  and  Home  Rule."  That 
"  Mr.  Hassett"  would  see  this,  was  his  sole  ambition ;  but 
when  we  pulled  up  and,  gazing  at  the  "banner,"  praised  his 
artistic  skill,  he  looked  as  if  unable  to  contain  himself  with 
happiness  and  pride. 

For  a  full  fortnight  it  rained  as  only  in  Kerry  it  can  rain. 
But  the  people  seemed  amphibious,  and  we  of  the  "  deputa- 
tion" *  soon  acquired  the  local  habit  of  disregarding  tempest 
and  flood.  Every  night,  at  Oakville — the  residence  of  Mr. 
Sandes,  a  young  cousin  of  "  Mr.  Hassett" — a  huge  turf  fire 
was  lighted,  before  which  our  ulsters,  dreadnoughts,  rugs, 
and  wrappers  were  hung  to  dry.  Next  morning  they  were 
in  requisition  once  more,  and  saturated  anew  in  a  few  hours. 

All  seemed  going  fairly  through  the  county,  when  one 
evening  on  reacliing  Oakville  a  piece  of  news  to  me  most 
disquieting  awaited  us.  Our  young  host  was  a  lover  of  the 
chase,  and  proud  of  his  hunters.  At  the  County  Club  the 
disputes  as  to  horseflesh  were  mingled  with  the  question  of 
Home  Rule  or  Liberalism,  Blennerhassett  or  Dease.     That 


*  Mr.  Florence  MacCarthy,  J. P.,  of  Glencurra,  Cork  County,  joined 
us  soon  after  Mr.  Galbraith's  return  to  Dublin. 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  481 

day  a  contention  had  arisen  between  Mr.  Sandes  and  a  lead- 
ing "  Deasite"  as  to  the  rival  merits  of  a  bay  mare  belonging 
to  one  and  a  chestnut  horse  owned  by  the  other.  "  I'll  tell 
you  what  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Sandes  ;  "■  I'll  run  you  a  two-mile 
steeple-chase  for  a  hundred  guineas,  if  you  like,  and  I'll  call 
my  horse  Home  Rule ;  do  you  call  yours  Deasite ;  each  to 
ride  his  own  horse."  No  true  Kerry  man  could  refuse  such 
a  challenge.  I  don't  know  at  what  figure  the  stakes  were 
eventually  fixed,  but  I  do  know  that  all  over  Kerry  men 
took  sides  and  betted  as  earnestly  on  this  race  as  if  the  fate 
of  the  election  hung  on  it, — which  indeed  we  greatly  feared 
was  in  some  degree  the  case. 

"  What  have  you  done !"  we  exclaimed,  in  vexation. 
"Staked  on  the  hazard  of  a  horse-race  the  result  of  all  our 
toil !  You  know  what  a  people  the  Irish  peasantry  are ; 
you  know  how  victory  or  defeat  in  a  matter  of  this  sort  will 
impress  them ;  you  know " 

"  I  know :  all  so  much  the  better ;  for  I'm  going  to  win 
this  race  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Tom  Sandes." 

And  he  did  win  it  in  right  gallant  style, — took  fence  and 
dike  without  fall  or  fault,  and  rode  in  triumphantly,  leaving 
"  Deasite"  nowhere ! 

This  seemed  conclusive  with  the  people.  Now  it  was  clear 
we  were  to  head  the  poll.  Had  not  the  ''  Home  Rule"  horse 
won  the  day  ? 

Still,  some  of  us,  accustomed  of  old  to  elections,  knew  that 
popular  feeling  did  not  always  mean  votes  in  the  booth  when 
landlord  pressure  was  severely  exercised ;  and  as  the  nomina- 
tion-day drew  near  we  found  that  the  most  relentless  coercion 
was  being  used  on  some  of  the  largest  properties  in  the 
county.  Nightly  councils  were  held  in  our  central  com- 
mittee-room ;  reports  from  the  various  districts  were  weighed 
and  discussed,  baronial  lists  eagerly  scanned  and  compared. 
That  at  the  last  moment  the  people  would  have  to  succumb 
2f  41 


482  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

to  the  bailiff's  message  was  a  gloomy  thought  which  hourly- 
pressed  more  heavily  on  many  a  mind.  To  make  matters 
worse,  Mr.  Blennerhassett's  health  broke  down  under  the 
fatigues  of  the  past  four  weeks,  and  we  more  than  feared 
he  would  be  unable  to  appear  at  the  hustings.  He  did  so 
appear  only  by  an  effort.  The  nomination  was  a  great  scene. 
The  territorial  lords  of  the  county  assembled  in  proud  array. 
Much  were  they  angered  and  astounded  to  think  they  be- 
held a  day  when  they  should  be  thus  opposed  and  defied  on 
their  own  ground.  Our  man  made  an  admirable  speech, 
temperate,  firm,  eloquent,  full  of  lofty  patriotism.  One  of 
his  supporters,  however,  struck  out  severely  at  some  of  the 
landlord  party  present,  and  we  could  see  that  the  attack  in- 
furiated the  whole  body.  They  left  the  court-house  and 
quitted  the  town,  each  for  his  own  locality,  swearing  that 
now  indeed  should  we  feel  their  power.  I  knew  what  was 
at  hand, — that  during  the  next  forty-eight  hours  it  would  be 
"the  rush  within  the  ropes"  with  both  parties.  The  nom- 
ination was  on  Tuesday  the  6th  of  February.  Next  day, 
for  many  reasons,  and  more  ])articu]arly  on  account  of  Mr. 
Blennerhassett's  absence  through  illness,  I  decided  to  remain 
at  headquarters  in  Tralee  and  take  supreme  control  into  my 
own  hands.  Soon  came  pouring  in  telegrams  addressed  to 
Mr.  Blennerhassett  in  the  language  of  excitement  and  alarm : 
"  All  our  forces  are  overthrown  here.  The  landlord  and 
the  bailiffs  are  out  like  raging  lions."  "Desperate  work 
here.  Landlords  neutral  up  to  this,  now  personally  canvass- 
ing against  us."  I  not  only  opened  the  first  of  these  mes- 
sages, but  opened  every  one  of  tliem  throughout  the  day.  I 
stuffed  them  deliberately  into  my  pocket,  and  breathed  not 
a  wcJrd  about  them  to  Mr.  Blennerhassett  or  anybo<ly  else, 
beyond  replying  to  each  of  them,  "  Quite  prepared  for  and 
expected  it.  We  are  doing  the  same  on  our  side.  Take  to 
the  field  every  man  of  you,  and  work  for  your  lives  day  and 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  483 

night  till  Friday."  I  well  knew  how  fatal  the  effect  of 
panic  or  disheartenraent  might  be  at  such  a  moment,  afid 
I  did  not  spare  the  telegraph-wires  that  day  in  arousing 
the  feelings  and  exciting  the  confidence  and  courage  of  our 
friends. 

From  Galway  most  opportunely  came  news  that  could 
hardly  fail  to  have  a  critical  effect  on  our  side.  In  that 
county  a  contest  little  less  important,  and  much  more  severe 
in  many  respects,  Avas  being  fought  by  Captain  John  Philip 
Nolan,  Home  Ruler,  against  Major  Le  Poer  Trench,  son  of 
Lord  Clancarty,  Liberal-Conservative.  Very  much  out  of 
personal  regard  for  Lord  Clancarty — and  for  Major  Trench 
himself,  for  whom  a  kindly  feeling  was  very  general  in  the 
county, — (but  still  more  "  to  put  down  Home  Rule"),  the 
principal  Whig  and  Tory  landlords  united  in  that  gallant 
gentleman's  behalf,  and  a  struggle  painful  and  violent  be- 
yond precedent  resulted.  The  day  following  our  Kerry 
nomination  the  startling  and  truly  welcome  news  arrived 
that  Captain  Nolan  had  won  by  the  enormous  majority  of 
2678  to  658,  or  nearly  four  to  one !  The  effect  in  Kerry  was, 
as  might  be  supposed,  all-important.  "  Galway  is  ours !  Now, 
Kerry,  show  what  you  can  do  !"  resounded  on  all  sides. 

Meantime,  troops,  horse  and  foot,  were  being  poured  into 
t;he  county.  The  landlords  hired  vacant  buildings,  courts,  or 
yards  in  which  to  secure  their  tenants  the  night  before  the 
poll.  In  virtue  of  their  power  as  magistrates  they  requi- 
sitioned detachments  of  foot  and  lancers  for  the  purpose  of 
"  escorting"  those  voters  to  the  booths.  The  streets  of  Tralee 
rang  with  the  bugles  or  echoed  to  the  drums  of  military 
arriving  by  train  or  departing  for  Dingle,  Listowel,  Cahir- 
civeen,  Castleisland,  etc.  All  this  intensified  the  prevailing 
excitement,  and  on  Wednesday  night  a  horseman  arrived 
from  one  of  the  remoter  districts  bringing  news  that  filled 
me  with  concern.     The  mountaineers  had  seen  "  the  army" 


484  ^EW  IRELAND. 

pass,  and  knew  their  errand.  All  over  a  great  part  of  IVerah 
and  Magonihy  preparations  were  going  on  that  night  to  de- 
stroy the  bridges,  cut  up  the  roads,  and  render  the  return  of 
the  escorts  to  the  polling-booths  impossible.  "  Oh,  for  the 
love  of  God,"  I  said,  "  tell  him  to  ride  back  with  all  his 
speed !  Tell  every  friend  we  are  sure  of  the  poll,  and  that 
our  only  danger  now  would  be  a  petition.  I  implore  of  you 
all  not  to  let  a  finger  be  raised  that  could  thus  put  the  victory 
into  our  enemies'  hands !"  Only  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
could  I  impress  this  view  upon  the  volunteer  couriers ;  and  it 
was  with  a  mind  full  of  uneasiness  and  apprehension  that 
the  night  before  the  poll  I  set  out  for  Killarney  (our  oppo- 
nents' stronghold),  of  which  district  I  determined  to  take 
charge. 

It  was  tough  work  all  that  morning  of  Friday  the  9th  of 
February  in  the  Killarney  booths;  and  as  the  tallies  swelled 
against  us  here  (but  here  only,  as  we  fully  calculated),  the 
crowds  which  about  noon  filled  the  streets  became  excited, 
uneasy,  and  anxious.  I  was  rushed  at  whenever  seen,  and 
eagerly  questioned. 

"  We're  bate  here,  sir ;  but  how  is  it  beyond  ?" 

"All  right,  boys.  We  are  doing  here  what  I  came  to  see 
done.     We'll  hear  from  Listowel  at  one  o'clock." 

Then,  drawing  on  hope,  the  crowd  would  raise  a  cheer, 
which  made  the  circuit  of  the  town. 

Some  of  the  scenes  in  the  booths  were  truly  "  racy  of  the 
soil."  In  many  cases  the  voter,  assuming  an  air  of  dense 
stupidity,  pretended  to  forget  the  name  of  Mr.  Dease,  or  else 
gave  the  name  of  the  landlord  or  agent.  In  this  event,  of 
course,  the  vote  was  lost,  which  was  exactly  what  the  sharp- 
witted  rustic  wanted. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"  My  name,  is  it,  sur  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  your  name." 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  485 

"  Och,  then,  begor,  av'  it's  me  name,  I'll  never  deny  it." 

A  pause. 

"  Come,  sir,  go  down  if  you  will  not  proceed." 

Here  the  agent's  eye  is  caught  menacingly  fixed  on  him. 

"  Arrah,  shure,  every  one  knows  me  name.  What  need 
you  ax  me  ?" 

"  What  is  it,  sir  ?  last  time." 

"  What  is  it?     Dan  Mahony,  thanks  be  to  God." 

''  Daniel  Mahony,  for  whom  do  you  vote?" 

"  For  who  do  I  wote,  is  it  ?" 

A  long — a  very  long — pause. 

"  Come,  sir,  I'll  take  the  next  man." 

Dan  looks  at  the  agent,  as  if  to  say,  "  Blame  me  not.  I'm 
doing  my  best."     Then,  with  an  efiFort, — 

"  I  wote  for  what's-his-name,  you  know,  that  me  landlord 
wants  me  to  wote  for." 

"  That  won't  do,  sir,  and  I  can't  waste  any  more  time  with 
you.     Clerk,  take  the  next  man." 

Here  Mr.  Dease's  attorney  makes  an  effort  to  whisper 
"  Dease,"  but  is  collared  by  young  Mr.  Wright,  who  is  in 
charge  on  our  side.  "  No  prompting,  sir.  I  protest."  Dan 
Mahony  scratches  his  head  in  well-feigned  perplexity,  and, 
as  if  for  life  or  death,  shouts, — 

"  I  wote  for  Daly .'" 

A  shriek  from  the  attorneys.  A  groan  from  the  agent. 
Dan  is  hustled  out  of  the  booth,  exclaiming,  as  he  goes,  "  I 
woted  for  me  landlord's  man  !"  He  turns  round  the  street- 
corner  and  meets  some  neighbors  on  the  lookout  for  him. 
"  All  right,  boys.    Hassett  and  Home  Rule  forever !  Hurroo !" 

I  heard  several  such  electors  vote  for  "  Lord  Kenmare," 
one  or  two  for  "  Mr.  Gallwey,  and  there  he  is  there  this 
blessed  minnit,  thanks  be  to  God !"  Mr.  Gallwey  being 
agent  to  the  Kenmare  estates,  and  a  good  and  kindly  one 
too.     Indeed,  throughout  the  whole  election  I  never  met  a 

41* 


486  -^'^'^  IRELAND. 

tenant  on  the  Kenmare  or  Herbert  properties  who  did  not 
speak  in  highest  terms  of  landlord  and  agent  in  each  case. 

I  was  standing  at  a  polling-place  under  a  shed  in  the 
butter-market  when  old  Sir  James  O'Connell  of  Lake  View 
(brother  of  the  Liberator),  a  most  extraordinary  and  eccentric 
octogenarian,  entered,  leading  or  bringing  on  each  side  of  him 
a  countryman,  whom  he  held  by  the  coat-flap.  Marching  up 
to  a  police-officer,  he  said, — 

"  I  want  a  few  of  your  men  to  go  over  there  for  some  of 
my  tenants." 

"  Do  you  mean.  Sir  James,  that  they  are  in  danger  of 
assault  ?" 

"  I  mean  that  the  crowd  would  assist  them  to  run  away." 

"Oh,  Sir  James,  we  can't  do  anything  like  that;  but  if 
there  is  danger  of  assault  or  interference " 

"  Well,  then,  will  you  mind  these  for  me  while  I  go 
myself?" 

The  officer  shook  his  head.  "  We'll  not  let  any  one  harm 
them,  Sir  James:  that's  all  we  can  do." 

The  old  gentleman  paused,  looked  at  the  two  "  free  and 
independent"  voters,  M-hom  he  still  affectionately  held  fast, 
and  eventually  said,  "  I'll  poll  them  first,  to  make  sure."  He 
put  up  one. 

"  For  whom  do  you  vote  ?" 

"  For  Sir  James'o'Connell  !" 

"  Oh,    you    bla'guard !     Oh,    you    stupid  ass  !     Oh,  you 

infernal but,  halloo — policeman  !     Hey  ! — I  say — where 

is  that  other  man  I  had  by  my  side  this  minute  ?  Police ! 
Police !" 

The  assembled  throng  shrieked  with  laughter.  The  other 
voter  had  flitted,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  told  me  he  came 
up  half  an  hour  later  and  polled  for  Blennerhassett ! 

About  half-past  one  o'clock  I  left  the  booths  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  telegraph-office.     The   people   in   the  streets 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  487 

easily  guessed  my  errand,  and  made  way,  crushing  closely 
after  me,  however,  and  surrounding  the  post-office  in  a  great 
mass.  Three  telegrams  soon  reached  me :  one  from  Cahirci- 
veen, — "A  hundred  majority  here;"  one  from  Tralee, — "  Two 
hundred  majority  here,  and  Kenmare  all  right;"  one  from 
Listowel, — "  Seven  hundred  majority  here."  I  felt  as  if  I 
could  spring  over  Mangerton.  I  rushed  to  the  door  with  the 
open  telegrams  in  my  hands,  but,  before  I  could  speak  a  word, 
quick  as  lightning-flash  the  people  read  it  all  in  my  face. 
They  burst  forth  into  the  most  frantic  demonstrations  of  joy. 
They  shouted,  they  cheered,  they  flung  their  hats  in  the  air; 
they  rushed  in  a  body  to  the  court-house,  where  polling  by 
this  time  was  virtually  over.  As  the  noise  was  heard  swell- 
ing up  the  street,  every  one  within  knew  Avhat  it  meant,  and 
gave  up  for  the  day  all  further  exertion.  Soon  the  word  went 
round, — the  Home  Ruler  was  in  by  over  seven  hundred. 

I  left  Killarney  in  the  full  tide  of  rejoicing,  and  took  the 
train  to  Tralee.  The  scene  at  the  latter  town  was  still  more 
exciting.  The  majorities  everywhere  were  even  greater  at  the 
close  than  had  been  telegraphed  to  me.  On  the  hills  around 
we  could  see  the  signal-fires  that  sjjread  the  news  from  the 
Shannon  to  Dunkerron.  Next  day  and  night  as  our  friends 
in  charge  at  the  outlying  stations  came  in,  they  brought  the 
most  astonishing  stories  of  adventure  and  episode.  The  scale 
was  turned  in  our  favor  at  Tralee  by  two  incidents :  first,  the 
defection  to  us  of  "the  Spa  voters;"  secondly,  the  dispersion 
of  "  the  Dingle  contingent,"  chiefly  a  body  of  Lord  Ventry's 
men.  The  Spa  was  a  parish  or  district  some  miles  outside 
Tralee,  the  tenantry  of  which  had  all  been  "secured"  by  the 
land  agent  and  were  quite  despaired  of  by  us.  The  night 
before  the  poll  the  bailiffs  had  warned  every  man  of  them  to 
be  at  the  cross-roads  in  the  morning  at  ten  o'clock  sharp  to 
meet  "  the  master"  and  march  to  Tralee  for  the  poll.  At  ten 
o'clock  "  the  master"  rode  down  to  the  appointed  spot,  like 


488  ^EW  IRELAND. 

Marshal  Ney  going  to  head  his  battalions.  He  found  no 
tenantry  awaiting  him.  "  I  am  a  little  too  soon/'  he  reflected, 
and  he  rode  his  horse  up  and  down  the  road  for  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes.  Half  an  hour  passed,  and  he  beciime  uneasy.  A 
few  peasants  had  been  lounging  about  in  the  neighborhood, 
watching  "  his  honor"  with  comical  expression  on  their  faces. 
One  of  them  now  came  up. 

"  May-be  it's  for  the  tinants  your  lionor  is  waiting  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  good  man  ;  yes,  the  lazy  rascals !  Do  you  see 
any  of  them  coming  yet  ?" 

"  Coming,  your  honor  ?  Faith,  'tis  at  eight  o'clock  this 
morning  they  all  left  this  with  Father  Eugene  O'Sullivan  at 
their  head,  and  they're  in  Tralee  an  hour  ago." 

Dashing  spurs  into  his  hoi'se,  he  went  at  full  gallop  into 
town,  and  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  the  last  of  the  Spa  men, 
over  a  hundred  in  number,  polling  for  Blennerhassett. 

From  Dingle,  distant  some  twenty  miles,  a  great  avalanche 
was  to  have  overwhelmed  us.  The  story  of  "  the  Dingle 
contingent"  was  told  me  in  great  delight.  Mr.  De  Moleyns, 
it  seems,  had  gathered  as  many  conveyances  as  would  trans- 
port a  small  army  corps,  and  quite  a  formidable  body  of  cav- 
alry had  proceeded  to  Dingle  to  escort  the  cavalcade.  When 
it  started  for  Tralee  it  Avas  fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length, 
Mr.  De  Moleyns  riding  proudly  at  its  head.  After  it  had 
gone  some  miles  he  turnal  back  to  make  some  inquiry  at  the 
rear  of  the  procession.  Great  was  his  dismay  to  behold  the 
last  five  or  six  cars  empty.  "  Where  are  the  voters  who  were 
on  these  cars?"  he  stormily  shouted  at  the  drivers. 

"  The  wothers,  captain  ?  Some  of  them  slipped  down 
there  to  walk  a  bit  of  the  road,  and  faix  we're  thinking  that 
they're  not  coming  at  all." 

*'  Halt !  halt !"  he  cried,  and,  full  of  rage,  galloped  to  the 
head  of  the  cavalcade.  He  called  on  the  officer  in  command 
of  the  cavalry  to  halt  for  a  while,  and  detail  a  portion  of  his 


THE  KERRY  ELECTION.  489 

men  for  duty  in  the  rear ;  when,  lo  !  he  now  noticed  that 
half  a  dozen  cars  at  the  front  had,  in  his  brief  absence,  totally 
lost  their  occupants.  According  to  my  informants,  Mr.  De 
Moleyus,  losing  all  temper,  more  forcibly  than  politely  accused 
the  officer  of  want  of  vigilance  and  neglect  of  duty ;  where- 
upon the  latter  sharply  replied, — 

"  What,  sir !  do  you  think  I  and  my  men  have  come  here 
to  be  your  bailiffs  ?  I  am  here  to  protect  these  men,  if  they 
want  protection ;  not  to  treat  them  as  prisoners.  And  now, 
sir,  I  give  you  notice  I  will  halt  my  men  no  more.  Ready, 
men  !     Forward  !     March  !" 

By  this  time  fully  a  third  of  the  voters  had  escaped.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  push  on.  At  the  village  of  Castle- 
gregory,  however,  the  severest  ordeal  awaited  them.  Here 
they  found  the  entire  population  of  the  place,  men,  women, 
and  children,  occupying  the  road,  the  old  parish  priest  stand- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  highway,  his  gray  hair  floating  in 
tiie  wind.  The  villagers,  chiefly  the  women,  well  knowing 
how  the  voters  felt,  poured  out  to  them  adjurations  and 
appeals.  The  priest,  in  a  few  brief  sentences,  reached  every 
heart.  "  Ah,  sons  of  Kerry,"  said  he,  "  where  is  your  pride 
and  manhood,  to  be  dragged  like  prisoners  or  carted  like 
cattle  in  this  Avay?  And  for  what?  That  you  may  give 
the  lie  to  your  own  conscience,  and  give  a  stab  to  your  coun- 
try, poor  Ireland!"  AVith  one  wild  shout  the  voters  sprang 
from  the  ears  and  disappeared  in  the  body  of  the  crowd. 
The  grand  "  Dingle  cavalcade"  was  a  wreck,  and  Mr.  De 
Moleyns,  sad  at  heart,  rode  into  Tralee  at  the  head  of  an 
immense  array  of  empty  cars. 

For  genuine  fun  and  ingenuity  perhaps  the  palm  must  be 
awarded  to  Cahirciveen.  From  Valencia  Island,  close  by,  a 
considerable  body  of  electors  were  to  be  brought  across  the 
sound  by  their  landlord,  the  Knight  of  Kerry,  to  poll  at  that 
town.     A  small  ferry  steamer  supplied  communication  from 


490  iV^JSJF  IRELAND. 

shore  to  shore.  Oddly  enough,  by  some  strange  "accident,"  on 
her  last  trip  to  the  island  the  evening  previous  to  the  poll  she 
managed  to  run  upon  a  rock,  and  was  utterly  disabled.  The 
knight  and  his  trusty  men  (the  latter,  however,  knowing 
something  that  he  did  not)  came  down  to  the  shore  in  the 
morning,  and  wasted  some  precious  time  shouting,  "  Steamer 
ahoy !"  It  was  all  as  fruitless  as  the  wailing  of  Lord  Ullin 
to  the  boat  in  the  ballad,  that  would  not  come  back  "  across 
the  stormy  water." 

This  was  the  last  "open  vote"  electoral  contest  in  Ireland. 
Such  scenes  as  I  have  described  will  be  witnessed  no  more. 
Five  months  subsequently — 13th  of  July,  1872 — the  Ballot 
Act  received  the  royal  assent.  That  act  gave  a  death-blow  to 
electoral  intimidation,  from  whatever  quarter  directed,  and 
delivered  the  reality  of  political  po\ver  at  the  polls,  for  the 
first  time,  into  the  hands  of  the  people  themselves. 

The  Kerry  election  decided  the  fortunes  of  the  new  move- 
ment. It  was  the  end  of  controversy.  To  this  day  it  is 
called  in  Ireland  ''  The  Clare  Election  of  Home  Rule." 


CHAPTEE   XXX. 


BALLYCOHEY. 


"  Mr.  William  Scully,  accompanied  by  a  force  of  police 
and  other  armed  attendants,  again  attempted  to  serve  the 
ejectment  notices  on  his  Ballycohey  tenantry  to-day.  A  la- 
mentable tragedy  ensued.  The  tenants  barricaded  and  loop- 
holed  one  of  the  houses,  from  which  they  poured  a  deadly 
fire  on  the  attacking  party.  The  police  returned  the  fire, 
and  fought  their  way  into  the  house,  which  they  found  evacu- 
ated. Three  of  the  police  party  are  killed ;  Mr.  Scully  is 
wounded  in  seven  places, — it  is  thought  mortally.  Four 
policemen  are  more  or  less  seriously  wounded.  None  of  the 
tenantry  were  seen.  None  of  them  seemed  to  have  suffered. 
No  arrests.  Indescribable  excitement  throughout  the  whole 
district." 

Such  was  the  alarming  message  telegraphed  all  over  the 
kingdom  from  Tipperary  on  the  evening  of  Friday,  the  14th 
of  August,  1868.  When  the  full  particulars  of  the  astonish- 
ing story  came  to  hand  the  excitement  of  the  district  spread 
through  Ireland.  Even  in  England  it  was  the  sensation  of 
the  day. 

Ballycohey  is  a  town-land  in  Tipperary  County,  about  two 
miles  west  of  the  Limerick  Junction  station,  on  the  Great 
Southern  and  Western  Railway,  and  distant  less  than  three 
miles  from  the  town  of  Tipperary.  In  the  summer  of  1868 
it  was  held  by  a  considerable  number  of  tenants,  whose  fore- 
fathers had  occupied  the  place  for  a  hundred  years.  They 
were  an  industrious,  peaceable,  and  kindly  people,  punctually 
paid  their  rent,  which  was  not  a  low  one,  and  seem  to  have 

491 


492  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

got  on  quite  smoothly  with  their  successive  landlords  until 
Mr.  AVilliam  Scully,  a  few  years  before  this  event,  became 
the  purchaser  of  Ballycohey.  It  had,  nearly  a  century  ago, 
been  a  leasehold  possession  of  the  Scullys, — one  of  the  oldest 
Catholic  families  of  social  position  in  Tipperary, — but  had 
passed  from  them  in  1847.  Its  history  during  this  period 
is  supplied  in  the  following  letter  from  ^Ir.  Carbery  Scully, 
of  Derry  Park  (a  relative  of  Mr.  William  Scully),  whose 
testimony,  incidentally  given,  as  to  the  character  of  the 
people,  was  fully  corroborated  by  the  other  landlords  of 
the  neighborhood : 

"  About  the  year  1782,  when  first  Catholic  gentlemen  could  get  leases 
of  property,  my  grandfather,  James  Scully  of  Kilfeacle,  took  the  lands 
of  Shronehill  and  Ballycohey  from  Lady  Caroline  Damer  at  a  lease  of 
three  lives,  viz.,  his  eldest  son  then  living,  Roger,  his  third  son,  James, 
and  my  father,  whose  name  was  Edmund,  being  the  names  in  the  lease. 
Those  lands  were  settled  on  my  father  on  his  marriage  in  1806.  He 
kept  them  in  his  own  possession  until  about  the  j'ear  1821,  when  he  com- 
menced letting  them  to  tenants,  and  I  see  by  the  leases  now  in  my  pos- 
session that  among  the  number  a  lease  was  made  3d  February,  1823,  to 
William  Dwyer  and  his  brother-in-law,  John  Tooley,  at  a  rent  of  three 
pounds  five  shillings  an  acre  for  their  lives,  or  twenty-one  years.  The 
other  tenants'  names  at  Ballycohey  were  Eyans,  Greens,  Quinns,  Hef- 
fernans,  Foleys,  Hanlys,  Tooleys,  and  some  few  others.  They  were  the 
most  honest,  quiet,  and  industrious  people  I  ever  met ;  all  paid  high 
rents,  and  most  punctually,  and  if  I  was  to  seleut  the  two  most  honest, 
not  only  among  them,  but  the  two  worthiest  men  I  ever  met,  they  were 
Dwyer  and  Tooley  (John),  his  brother-in-law.  In  the  year  1839,  at  my 
father's  decease,  the  property  (Ballycohey)  came  to  me,  and  I  continued 
the  same  tenants  and  renewed  some  leases  of  those  which  expired.  "When 
James  Scully  of  Tipperary  (the  last  life  in  the  lease)  died,  in  January, 
1847,  the  property  went  out  of  my  possession  into  that  of  the  landlord's, 
Lord  Portarlington,  whose  agent  was  the  late  .John  Sadleir,  and  he  con- 
tinued the  same  tenants  at  the  reduced  rent  I  gave  it  at,  when  the 
potatoes  failed  in  the  winter  of  1845.  Some  time  after,  when  Lord  Port- 
arlington sold  the  property,  Mr.  Errington  purchased  Shronehill,  and 
Mr.  Grey,  agent  to  that  best  of  landlords  (Lord  Derby),  purchased 
Ballycohey,  and  I  believe  continued  the  same  tenants  at  the  reduced 
rent.     Thus  stood  the  matter  until  the  property  was  purchased  a  few 


BALLYCOHEY.  493 

years  ago  by  Mr.  William  Scully.  As  it  was  my  father  first  brought 
those  tenants  or  their  fathers  on  those  lands,  and  I  continued  them  there, 
I  feel  bound  to  bear  testimony  to  their  honesty  and  industry  when  I 
knew  them." 

It  was  with  something  like  dismay  the  Ballycohey  tenantry 
heard  Mr.  Grey  had  sold  the  land  to  William  Scully.  This 
latter  gentleman  was  already  unpleasantly  known  to  fame  as 
a  landlord.  He  was  a  man  of  large  wealth,  and  had  exten- 
sive estates,  not  only  in  Ireland,  but  in  America.*  Yet  his 
career  and  character  up  to  this  more  than  justified  the  appre- 
hensions of  the  Ballycohey  farmers.  In  1849  he  was  tried 
at  Clonmel  assizes  for  the  shooting  of  two  fine  young  men, 
named  Bergin,  sons  of  a  tenant  whom  he  was  evicting  at 
Ballinclough ;  but  he  was  acquitted  on  this  charge.     A  like 


*  Mr.  W.  Scully  (brother  of  Mr.  Vincent  Scully,  formerly  M.P.  for 
Cork  County,  and  cousin  of  Mr.  Prank  Scully,  formerly  M.P.  for  Tip- 
perary)  owns  twenty-five  thousand  acres  of  the  choicest  land  in  Illinois, 
the  "  Garden  State"  of  America.  This  estate  is  situated  in  Tazewell 
County,  and  comprises  the  greater  portion  of  the  celebrated  Delavan 
Prairie,  the  richest  loam  in  the  United  States.  A  friend  who  visited 
the  place  recently,  and  from  whom  I  derive  these  facts,  says,  "About 
the  termination  of  the  Mexican  war  Mr.  Scully  was  prospecting  for  land 
in  America.  Illinois  had  but  just  been  formed  into  a  State  and  taken 
into  the  Union.  Each  soldier  was  entitled  to  a  land  claim  of  one  hundred 
and  sixty  acres.  Sold^iers,  as  a  rule,  care  little  for  land.  Mr.  Scully 
went  among  them  as  the  army  was  about  being  disbanded,  and  purchased 
for  a  mere  trifle  one  hundred  and  sixty  claims  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
acres  each.  Singular  to  say,  many  Tipperary  people  are  resident  upon 
this  tract  as  tenants,  the  rent  averaging  about  five  dollars,  or  one  pound, 
per  acre.  A  Tipperary  man  named  Cooney,  one  of  the  tenants,  offered 
a  few  years  ago  one  hundred  dollars  per  acre  to  Mr.  Scully  for  the  fee- 
simple  of  the  farm  which  he  held  under  him.  It  was  refused.  The 
average  price  of  good  cleared  land  in  the  same  State  is  from  twenty  to 
thirty  dollars  per  acre.  In  the  session  of  the  State  Legislature  of  1876 
a  bill  was  introduced  by  the  Hon.  P.  W.  Dunne,  one  of  the  members  for 
Peoria  County,  to  impose  an  extraordinary  tax  upon  the  estate  of  Mr. 
Scully,  on  the  ground  of  his  being  an  alien  and  an  absentee.  The 
measure  was  not  carried  through,  but  is  not  abandoned." 

42 


J94  ^^^  IRELAND. 

good  fortune  did  not  await  him  at  the  Kilkenny  summer 
assizes  of  I860,  when  he  was  sentenced  to  twelve  months' 
imprisonment  for  beating  and  wounding  the  wife  of  one  of 
his  tenants,  named  Tehan,  while  attempting  to  break  into 
Tehan's  house  in  the  dead  of  night  to  serve  some  notice  or 
make  a  seizure.  His  ideas  of  a  landlord's  rights  were  strict, 
and  his  mode  of  enforcing  them  strong, — too  strong  the  judge 
thought,  and  so  sent  him  to  Kilkenny  County  jail  for  a  year's 
hard  labor.  In  truth  he  became  the  terror  of  the  unfortunate 
tenantry  who  owned  his  sway.  He  was  a  Catholic,  and  the 
parish  priest  remonstrated  forcibly,  from  time  to  time,  against 
his  course  of  conduct.  Mr.  Scully  retaliated  by  putting  his 
children  into  the  wagonette  one  Sunday  morning  and  driving 
with  them  to  the  Protestant  church.  When  this  news  reached 
the  congregation  at  the  Catholic  chapel  after  mass,  they  took 
off  their  hats  and  gave  "three  cheers,"  delighted  that  "Billy," 
as  he  was  called,  was  no  longer  one  of  themselves.  The  Bally- 
cohey  men  noted  early  that  he  was  trying  to  "  get  a  holt  on 
them,"  as  they  expressed  it;  but,  as  they  fairly  paid  their 
rent,  and  as  it  was  a  pretty  high  one,  it  was  not  clear  what  he 
would  do.  They  soon  found  out.  He  valued  money  much, 
— he  was  avaricious, — but  he  valued  despotic  power  even 
more.  He  framed  a  form  of  lease  for  the  Ballycohey  ten- 
antry, refusal  of  which  was  to  be  the  signal  for  their  eviction. 
This  was  a  most  astonishing  document.  The  tenants  were 
always  to  have  a  half-year's  rent  paid  in  advance;  to  pay 
the  rent  quarterly ;  to  surrender  on  twenty-one  days'  notice 
at  the  end  of  any  quarter;  to  forego  all  claims  to  their  own 
crops  that  might  be  in  the  soil ;  and  they  were  to  pay  all 
rates  and  taxes  whatsoever.  Whoever  refused  to  accept  these 
terms  must  quit. 

Any  one  who  knew  the  people  of  Tipperary  could  tell 
what  this  was  sure  to  bring  about.  The  magistrates  and  the 
police  officers  warned  ^Ir.  Scully.     He  cared  not.     He  ap- 


BALLYCOHEY.  495 

plied  for  and  received  a  guard  of  police  on  his  house  and 
person,  and  went  about  heavily  armed  himself,  besides  being 
so  attended. 

Early  in  June,  1868,  he  noticed  the  tenants  to  bring  him 
the  May  rent  to  Dobbyn's  Hotel  in  Tipperary  on  a  par- 
ticular day.  He  sat  at  the  table  with  a  loaded  revolver  on 
each  hand,  and  a  policeman  with  rifle  and  sabre  close  by. 
Only  four  tenants  came  in  person.  The  rest  sent  the  rent 
by  messengers,  which  greatly  angered  him,  for  he  wanted  the 
opportunity  of  obtaining  their  signatures  to  the  famous  "lease" 
or  else  handing  them  there  and  then  a  "notice  to  quit."  This 
was  exactly  what  the  absentees  susisected,  and  so  they  sent 
the  money  by  their  wives  or  sons.  The  four  who  came  were 
asked  to  sign.  They  refused,  and  ran  away.  He  swore  at 
them ;  and  they  defiantly  replied,  consigning  him  in  loudly- 
expressed  wishes  to  another  and  not  a  better  world.  It  was 
now  open  war.  Mr.  Scully  took  out  ejectment  processes. 
These  require  to  be  either  personally  served  or  else  left  at  the 
tenant's  house,  some  member  of  the  family  or  servant  being 
at  the  moment  within.  The  constabulary  inspector  had  in- 
formation that  any  attempt  of  Mr.  Scully  to  appear  on  the 
lands  delivering  these  missives  of  vengeance  would  be  resisted 
to  bloodshed.  But  nothing  could  move  him  from  his  pur- 
pose. On  Tuesday,  the  11th  of  August,  he  set  forth  at  the 
head  of  a  police  escort  and  his  own  bailiffs  to  serve  the  eject- 
ments. The  party  was  seen  approaching,  and  a  signal  halloo 
was  passed  along  the  fields.  _  Immediately  the  houses  were 
abandoned,  and  at  the  same  time  the  police  could  see  men 
running  from  far  and  near  to  swell  the  angry  crowd  that  was 
gathering.  Owing  to  the  abandonment  of  the  houses,  only  a 
few  notices  could  be  served;  and  by  this  time  the  surrounding 
crowd,  groaning,  yelling,  cursing,  and  threatening,  had  become 
so  excited  that  the  officer  in  command  of  the  police  called  on 
Mr.  Scully  to  desist  forthwith,  and  let  them  safely  retreat  to 


496  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

the  town  ere  it  was  too  late.  Reluctantly  he  consented.  The 
crowd  followed,  and  by  the  time  they  reached  Tipperary  they 
had  to  fight  their  way  to  the  hotel.  Under  all  these  circum- 
stances most  other  men  would  have  paused.  Mr.  Scully  de- 
termined to  push  on.  Early  on  the  following  Friday  he  was 
once  more  at  the  head  of  his  force,  and  making  a  dash  to 
surprise  Ballycohey.  His  approach  was  quickly  signalled  as 
before,  and  a  scene  similar  to  that  of  Tuesday  ensued,  the 
people  being  rather  more  violent.  The  police  had  much  dif- 
ficulty in  guarding  Mr.  Scully  and  young  Gorman,  his  land- 
bailiff,  who  were  the  especial  objects  of  hostility.  At  length 
things  became  so  critical  that  the  officer  once  again  pointed 
out  the  madness  of  persevering,  and  said  he  would  not  be  ac- 
countable for  the  consequences.  Mr.  Scully  said  it  was  hard 
to  be  baffled  by  the  villains  a  second  time,  but  eventually 
assented.  They  decided  to  make  for  the  railway-station,  as 
the  nearest  shelter.  Some  of  the  police  with  fixed  sword- 
bayonets  went  in  front,  others  marched  at  the  rear  to  keep 
back  the  crowd.  While  thus  with  some  difficulty  pushing 
their  way  to  safety,  they  passed  within  a  short  distance  of 
a  house  owned  by  one  of  the  defiant  tenants  named  John 
Dwyer.*  The  "temptation"  was  too  great  for  Mr.  Scully. 
"  We  will  try  this  one,"  he  said,  and  turned  into  the  little 
boreen  or  walled  avenue  leading  to  the  house.  The  guards 
followed,  some  halting  at  the  entrance  to  the  avenue  to  repress 
the  throng  at  bayonet-point.  The  hall  door  of  the  house  was 
entered  from  a  farmyard  quadrangle,  formed  by  out- offices. 
Mr.  Scully,  Gorman,  a  bailiff  named  Maher,  and  Sub-Con- 
stable Morrow,  dashed  to  the  hall  door,  opened  it,  and  en- 
tered. At  that  instant  from  within  the  house  and  without 
the  crash  of  pistol-  and  musket-shot  was  heard  in  a  regular 

*  The  man  of  whom  Mr.  Carbery  Scully  speaks  so  favorably  in  his 
letter  qvioted  at  p.  492. 


BALLYCOHEY.  497 

volley.  Morrow  fell  outside  the  door,  shot  from  a  loophole 
in  one  of  the  flanking  buildings.  Gorman  fell  just  inside 
the  threshold,  riddled  with  bullets  fired  from  a  lol*t  within, 
which  commanded  the  entrance.  Mr.  Scully  and  Maher, 
both  wounded,  the  former  with  two  bullets  lodged  in  his 
neck  and  badly  hurt  from  several  others,  rushed  from  the 
house  and  sheltered  behind  the  pier  of  the  yard  gateway. 
Here,  halting,  Mr.  Scully,  with  his  double-barrelled  breech- 
loader and  a  revolver,  commenced  a  brisk  fire  at  the  windows 
and  loopholes,  the  police  also  pouring  in  a  sharp  rifle-fire. 
At  length  Mr.  Scully  called  out,  "  AVho  will  enter  the  house 
with  me?"  "/will,"  said  Head-Constable  Cleary,  and  the 
whole  force  rushed  in.  "  They  are  in  that  loft,"  said  Mr. 
Scully,  and  at  the  words  a  shot  from  the  spot  indicated  struck 
Sub-Constable  Colleton.  The  step-ladder  to  the  loft  had 
been  taken  up,  and  it  was  only  with  difficulty  Cleary  could 
mount  to  the  place.  When  he  succeeded, — lo !  it  was  empty. 
He  found  a  breastwork  made  with  feather  beds,  and  behind 
it  a  revolver  and  some  cartridges.  Further  search  revealed 
a  hole  at  the  edge  of  the  roof  recently  made,  through  which 
the  firing  party  had  retreated  to  the  garden  at  the  rear. 
The  police  next  proceeded  to  the  out-houses,  from  which  by 
this  time  the  firing  had  ceased.  Here  also  they  found  fire- 
arms and  ammunition ;  one  blunderbuss  having  burst  quite 
close  to  the  stock.  But  as  each  house  or  barn  had  a  rear 
exit,  through  which  retreat  had  been  secured,  no  one  was 
captured.  Not  even  a  trace  by  which  suspicion  might  be  as- 
sisted, or  identification  secured,  could  they  find  throughout 
the  premises ! 

They  noAV  turned  their  attention  to  the  wounded.  Morrow 
was  quite  dead.  Gorman  was  alive,  but  senseless.  He  never 
spoke  again,  poor  fellow.  All  the  rest  could  walk,  though 
bleeding  severely.  Mr.  Scully,  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
wore  a  suit  of  chain  mail  under  his  clothes, — a  precaution 
2g  42* 


498  -^'^TF  IRELAND. 

which  saved  his  life.*  He  was  made  a  target.  When  they 
found  he  did  not  fall  though  hit  by  a  dozen  bullets  in  the 
body,  they  poured  their  fire  at  his  head,  six  shots  taking 
effect.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  visited  the  spot  immediately 
after,  marked  seven  bullet-holes  in  the  door  within  a  diameter 
of  six  inches,  just  where  Mr.  Scully  stood. 

"  Let  us  hold  a  council  of  war,"  said  Mr.  Scully.  "  AVhat 
shall  we  do?     Let  us  at  once  make  our  way  to  the  station." 

"What!"  said  the  head  constable;  "abandon  these  wounded 
men?  No.  I  shall  stay  here  till  help  comes.  You  have 
your  own  guard.     Go,  if  you  will." 

According  to  the  constable's  evidence  at  the  inquest,  Mr. 
Scully  thought  this  most  absurd,  and  said,  "  What  good  can 
you  do  to  a  dead  or  dying  man  ?  Come  and  protect  me." 
But  the  officer,  grieved,  disgusted,  and  angered,  as  well  he 
might  have  been,  by  the  whole  dreadful  business,  would  have 
no  more  to  do  with  Mr.  Scully ;  would  not  abandon  his  dead 
comrade  and  the  dying  Gorman. 

The  fate  of  the  latter  was  singularly  sad.  A  friend,  resi- 
dent close  by  the  place,  writing  to  me,  says,  "Gorman,  poor 
fellow,  knew  that  morning  that  he  was  facing  death,  but  he 
would  not  desert  *  the  master,'  for  reasons  that  did  him  all 
credit."  The  facts  were  these :  Gorman  was  the  son  of  a 
widow  holding  a  small  farm  on  one  of  Mr.  Scully's  proper- 
ties. Mr.  Scully,  finding  him  an  unusually  smart  and  intel- 
ligent lad,  sent  him  to  a  veterinary  college  in  Scotland,  had 
him  there  professionally  educated,  and  then  made  him  stew- 
ard and  estate-bailiff.  It  was  a  perilous  and  an  odious  post, 
and  the  young  man  did  not  like  it.  "  What  can  I  do?"  said 
he.     "  I  hate  it.     I  hate  this  dreadful  work  the  master  is 

*  Two  countrymen  were  heard  discoursing  on  this  circumstance  at  the 
Cahir  railway-station  a  day  or  two  subsequently.  "  Arrah  !  how  could 
the  villain  be  killed  when  he  wore  a  helmet  on  his  stomach  I"  was  the 
exclamation  which  closed  the  discussion. 


BALLTCOHEV.  499 

doing ;  but  for  me  to  leave  him  and  get  another  situation  on 
the  strength  of  the  education  he  gave  me  at  his  sole  expense, 
would  surely  be  mean ;  and,  besides,  'tis  merciless  he  would 
be  to  my  poor  mother  if  I  acted  so."  The  week  before  this 
Ballycohey  affair  he  received  several  friendly  warnings,  tell- 
ing him  not  to  rush  on  certain  destruction.  What  follows  I 
give  in  the  words  of  my  friend : 

"The  evening  preceding  the  battle  of  Ballycohey,  Darby 
Gorman  visited  the  village  of  Golden,  which  is  little  more 
than  a  mile  from  Scully's  residence  at  Ballenaclogh.  The 
country  round  Golden  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  and  fer- 
tile in  Tipperary.  Here,  it  is  said,  the  poet  Moore  wrote  one 
or  two  of  the  most  beautiful  of  his  immortal  melodies,  while 
on  a  visit  to  his  sister,  who  was  married  to  one  of  the  Scully 
family.  Gorman,  on  the  evening  alluded  to,  met  a  young 
companion  named  O'Donnell.  They  talked  over  Scully's 
first  visit  to  Ballycohey,  and  the  letters  of  warning  which 
Gorman  had  received  in  the  interval.  His  companion  ad- 
vised him  not  to  go  to  Ballycohey  again,  as  he  certainly 
would  be  shot.  Gorman  replied,  '  I  know  I  shall ;  but  what 
can  I  do?'  'Go  to  Cahir,'  said  his  friend,  'and  enlist  in  the 
cavalry.  You  are  well  educated,  and  being  a  veterinary 
surgeon  you  are  sure  to  advance.'  *  If  I  turn  my  back  upon 
Scully,'  replied  Gorman,  'what  will  become  of  my  poor 
mother  and  my  little  brothers  and  sisters  ?  I  knoM^  he  is  a 
tyrant  and  won't  spare  them ;  yet  he  educated  me,  and  I  don't 
like  to  desert  him.'  *  Believe  me,'  said  O'Donnell,  '  I  know 
Scully  well;  and  if  you  lose  your  life  in  his  service,  he  will 
forget  it  to  your  family.'  They  parted,  each  to  his  home. 
Gorman,  on  his  return,  was  told  by  his  mother  that  the  mas- 
ter called,  inquiring  for  him  ;  that  she  told  him  he  had  gone 
to  the  village.  She  said  Mr.  Scully  desired  her  to  tell  him 
to  be  up  early  the  next  morning,  as  they  had  to  go  from 
home  a  distance.     '  Mother,'  said  the  son,  '  I  know  where  be 


500  ^'^^^  IRELAND. 

is  going  to,  and  I  don't  like  to  go.'  '  Well,  Darby,'  replied 
the  mother,  'go  to  bed,  in  the  name  of  God,  and  I'll  call  you 
up  early  in  the  morning.'  The  young  man  retired  to  his 
room.  He  had  a  presentiment  it  would  be  his  last  night  on 
earth,  and  he  had  already  prepared  himself  for  death  by 
having  received  the  sacraments  of  his  Church.  He  spent  a 
restless  night,  and  was  up  and  dressed  at  an  early  hour.  His 
mother  had  his  breakfast  in  readiness.  He,  poor  fellow,  had 
small  desire  for  it.  He  bade  his  mother  good-by,  but  con- 
cealed from  her  the  dreadful  apprehension  that  oppressed 
him.  After  leaving  the  house  he  suddenly  returned  to  it, 
and  entering  his  room  hastily  wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper,  which 
was  subsequently  found  on  his  dressing-table,  '  I  shall  never 
return  to  this  house  alive.'  A  few  hours  afterwards  the 
tragic  prophecy  was  realized,  and  one  of  the  finest,  most  in- 
telligent and  impulsively  generous  young  men  in  Tipperary 
was  borne  back  to  his  widowed  mother  a  stark  and  bloody 
corpse,  the  victim  of  a  despot's  ruthless  will." 

The  Ballycohey  tragedy  passed  the  Irish  Land  Act  of  1870; 
that  is  to  say,  argument  and  sentimental  conclusion  having 
gone  before,  this  was  the  incident  which  supplied  that  deci- 
sive impulse  to  public  opinion  which  leads  to  action.  Mr. 
Scully's  despotism  came  at  a  critical  moment  to  illustrate  and 
exemplify  the  state  of  things  under  which  the  agricultural 
population  of  Ireland  long  had  groaned.  Every  voice  was 
raised  against  him.  His  brother  landlords  and  magistrates, 
in  meeting  assembled,  passed  a  resolution  reprobating  his 
conduct.  The  coroner's  jury,  inquiring  into  the  deaths  of 
the  murdered  men,  added  to  their  verdict  the  following: 

"  The  jury  are  further  of  opinion  that  the  conduct  of  Mr.  William 
Scully  as  regards  his  proceedings  towards  his  tenantry-  at  Ballycohey  is 
much  to  be  deprecated  ;  and  the  sooner  legislative  enactments  be  passed 
to  put  a  stop  to  any  such  proceedings,  the  better  for  the  peace  and  welfare 
of  the  country." 


BALLYCOHEY.  501 

But  Mr.  Scully  had  a  triumphant  answer  for  them  all.  He 
was  within  the  law.  He  was  but  enforcing  legally  Avhat  the 
law  decreed  !  There  was  no  gainsaying  this :  so  ev'en  from 
London  journals  there  came  the  important  rejoinder,  "  Such 
laws  must  be  changed."  Said  tho,  Saturday  Remew/'l^a.\\di- 
lords  are  not  a  divine  institution  any  more  than  the  Irish 
Church.  They  exist  for  Ireland,  not  Ireland  for  them  ;  and 
where  the  genius  and  circumstances  of  a  country  are  so  widely 
different  from  ours,  its  laws  and  institutions  without  any 
want  of  reason  might  well  differ  too.''  The  Irish  Land 
question  was  stated  in  these  two  sentences  of  the  Saturday 
Review.  They  covered  the  whole  case.  Such  utterances 
conveyed  not  even  "  a  choleric  word"  now,  coming  from 
a  leading  London  politician,  whereas  they  were  "  flat  blas- 
phemy"— "  communism,"  as  Dr.  Cooke  would  say — fifteen 
years  before,  when  spoken  by  members  of  the  Irish  Tenant 
League. 

But  a  new  and  better  England  had  arisen  since  then  ;  and 
now,  from  the  Tyne  to  the  Thames,  men  cried  out,  "  These 
things  must  no  longer  be."  It  was  announced  that,  as  the 
Irish  Church  Bill  was  the  work  of  1869,  the  Irish  Land 
Bill  would  be  the  task  for  1870. 

That  the  promised  measure  might  be  a  real  and  efficacious 
settlement  of  this  long-standing  grievance — might  sweep  away 
once  and  forever  the  cause  and  source  of  so  much  bloodshed 
and  crime,  so  much  suffering  and  wrong — was  the  dominant 
anxiety  of  every  thoughtful  mind  in  Ireland  throughout  the 
winter  of  1869.  When  the  boon  appeared  it  sadly  disap- 
pointed the  national  hopes  and  expectations.  It  was  a  half- 
measure,  and,  like  all  half-measures  dealing  with  gigantic 
issues,  did  not  receive  even  half-justice  in  popular  estimation, 
but  was  wholly  condemned  and  sweepingly  denounced.  Yet 
was  it  a  great  and  wondrous  stride  in  British  legislation  for 
Ireland, — not  so  much  in  the  letter  of  its  clauses  as  in  the 


502  ^^^W  IRELAND. 

spirit  of  the  whole  enactment  and  in  the  principles  which  it 
admitted. 

The  two  great  evils  which  constituted  the  Land  grievance 
in  Ireland  (where  the  "  Ulster  right"  did  not  prevail)  ^yere 
confiscation  of  tenant  property,  and  capricious  eviction.  A 
tenant,  by  expenditure  of  his  capital  or  his  labor,  quadrupled 
the  value  of  his  land, — made  it  worth  two  pounds  an  acre  in- 
stead of  ten  shillings.  The  landlord  confiscated  or  ajipropri- 
ated  that  tenant's  property  either  by  raising  the  rent  (slowly 
or  suddenly)  to  two  pounds  an  acre,  or  by  forthwith  evicting 
the  tenant  and  letting  the  land  to  some  one  ready  to  pay  forty 
shillings  for  it.  Usually  the  tenant,  rather  than  be  evicted, 
agreed  to  each  rise  of  the  rent  on  his  own  outlay.  That  was, 
in  brief,  the  "confiscation"  grievance.  The  eviction  or  tenure 
grievance  was  this :  that  even  where  the  tenant  punctually 
paid  his  rent,  even  where  the  highest  rent  demanded  Mas 
given,  even  where  the  tenant  was  industrious  and  improving, 
even  where  the  farm  had  for  hundreds  of  years  been  the  pos- 
session and  home  of  the  tenant's  family,  the  landlord  could, 
of  mere  caprice,  giving  no  reason  at  all,  evict  that  tenant  and 
do  what  he  liked  with  the  land.  This  was  the  case  at  Bally- 
cohey.  Persistently  and  irrepressibly,  therefore,  the  Irish 
tenantry  have  ever  demanded  that  the  law  shall  put  an  end 
alike  to  "  confiscation"  and  to  "  capricious  eviction,"  shall 
prevent  the  landlord  from  levying  a  rent  on  value  created  by 
the  tenantry,  and  shall  forbid  him  from  evicting,  unless  for 
statutable  cause.  That  is  the  Irish  Land  question  from  the 
tenant's  point  of  view. 

The  landlords  say.  It  is  quite  true  some  of  our  class 
raise  their  rents  unjustly  and  extortionately,  so  as  to  reap  a 
gain  from  the  tenants'  outlay ;  and  it  is  true  some  of  them 
evict  for  mere  caprice  or  for  political  vengeance;  but  if  you 
prevent  us  from  raising  or  lowering  our  rents  as  to  us  may 
seem  fit,  you  interfere  with  the  freedom  of  contract ;  and  if 


BALLYCOHEY.  503 

you  forbid  eviction,  unless  for  statutable  cause,  you  interfere 
with  the  rights  of  property,  and  make  us  mere  "rent- 
chargers." 

There  is  much  in  all  this ;  but  no  one  ever  heard  that  the 
landlords  of  Ulster  found  their  status  lowered,  their  rights 
destroyed,  or  their  property  deteriorated  by  that  "  Ulster 
custom"  which  substantially  did  all  that  was  now  demanded. 
On  the  contrary,  landlord  property  in  Ulster  is  most  secure 
and  valuable ;  and  the  province  blooms  like  a  garden. 

The  Gladstone  Act  of  1870  secures  undoubted  compensa- 
tion to  agricultural  tenants  for  improvements  effected  in  and 
on  the  soil,  and  admits  to  a  certain  extent  a  property  right  of 
occupancy  on  the  part  of  the  tenant.  The  first-mentioned 
portion  of  the  act  substantially  met  the  Irish  demands.  On 
the  second — the  question  of  tenure — it  made  a  bold,  and 
doubtless  what  its  author  wished  to  be  a  successful,  attempt  to 
stop,  or  rather  to  deter  from,  unjust  and  capricious  evictions. 
This  it  aimed  to  accomplish  by  a  limited  scale  of  fines  upon 
the  evicting  landlord,  to  be  paid  as  compensation  to  the 
evicted  tenant.  The  latter  part  of  the  act  has  been  a  woful 
failure.  The  limited  fines  have  been  mere  cobweb  bonds  to 
restrain  landlords  from  carrying  out  capricious  evictions 
where  so  disposed.  The  act,  however,  has  opened  a  new  era 
in  Ireland.  Evictions  of  the  old  character  and  extent  will 
henceforth  hardly  be  attempted.  Isolated  instances  of  agra- 
rian outrage  may  occasionally  appear,  but  the  dreadful  storms 
of  tenant  vengeance  and  crime  that  used  to  prevail  of  old 
will  no  more  appall  the  land. 

Not  every  tragedy  in  the  history  of  the  Irish  Land  code 
has  had  a  sequel  so  romantically  pleasing  and  happy  as  that 
of  Ballycohey.  Mr.  Scully  recovered  from  his  wounds,  and, 
merciless  as  ever,  rendered  desperate  by  what  had  occurred, 
prepared  to  exterminate  man,  woman,  and  child  of  "the 
murderers."     The  kingdom  looked  on  heart-wrung  and  ap- 


504  ^'^^^  IRELAND. 

palled ;  for  there  was  no  law  to  hold  his  hand.  The  doomed 
people  sullenly  and  hopelessly,  yet  defiantly,  awaited  the 
blow.  Heaven  sent  them  succor,  rescue,  safety.  Mr.  Charles 
Moore,  of  Mooresfort,  then  member  for  Tipperary,  appealed  to 
Mr.  Scully  not  to  convulse  the  country  anew, — besought  him 
to  spare  the  people.  "  Say  what  price  you  put  on  this  Bally- 
cohey  property.  I  will  pay  it  to  you,  and  let  there  be  an  end 
to  this  dreadful  episode !" 

Eveu  so  was  it  done.  Mr.  Scully  told  how  many  thousands 
he  would  take ;  Mr.  Moore  paid  the  money  down  ;  and  Bally- 
cohey  to-day  is  the  happiest  spot  in  all  the  land, — the  home 
of  peace,  security,  contentment,  prosperity.  That  deed  of 
rescue  deserves  to  be  recorded  in  letters  of  gold.  The  people 
of  Tipperary  will  never  forget  it.  Mr.  Moore  died  soon 
after ;  but  when,  in  the  general  election  of  1874,  the  burghers 
of  Clonmel  decided  to  replace  the  much-respected  gentleman 
who  had  hitherto  represented  them  as  a  Liberal — Mr.  Bag- 
well— by  a  man  more  thoroughly  reflecting  the  national  sen- 
timent, they  selected  young  Arthur  Moore  of  Mooresfort; 
much  because  he  was  a  Home  Ruler,  more  because  he  was 
his  father's  son.  He  is  named  on  the  Roll  of  Parliament  as 
representative  of  Clonmel;  but  he  sits  as  the  member  for 
Ballycohey. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

THE   DISESTABLISHED    CHURCH. 

In  1870  the  episcopalian  Protestants  of  Ireland  were  called 
upon  to  face  a  state  of  things  well  calculated  to  test  their  de- 
votion, their  courage,  their  ability.  Their  Church  as  a  State 
institution  had  been  swept  away;  and  they  had  to  address 
themselves  to  the  serious  work  of  building  up  a  new  system. 
All  eyes  were  strained  to  watch  their  movements.  How 
would  Disestablishment  affect  the  Irish  Episcopal  Protestant 
Church?  What  would  be  the  result  of  that  measure  finan- 
cially ?  How  would  it  affect  the  structure  or  ecclesiastical 
organization  of  the  Church  ?  Would  it  lead  to  doctrinal 
change  or  modification?  Would  it  prove  injurious  or  ser- 
viceable to  Irish  Protestantism?  These  were  questions  on 
every  lip ;  eager  and  anxious  speculations  on  all  sides. 

The  interval  since  1870  has  shown  the  Irish  Protestants 
engaged  in  this  great  labor,  involved  betimes  in  menacing 
difficulties;  yet  it  is  fair  to  say  that  they  have  exhibited 
dignity,  resolution,  self-reliance,  and  a  reconstructive  ability 
beyond  praise.  Many  persons  imagined  the  Catholics  would 
wish  them  evil,  and  would  bt-eak  forth  into  ebullitions  of 
exultation,  or  expressions  of  derision,  when  in  the  Church 
Synod  stormy  scenes  now  and  again  marked  the  debates  on 
"Revision."  Nothing  of  the  kind  occurred.  The  Catholics 
of  Ireland,  on  the  whole,  rather  rejoiced  to  see  how  well  a 
body  of  Irish  gentlemen  could  legislate  on  Irish  affairs ;  and 
I  believe  it  to  be  the  fact  that,  as  a  sort  of  Irish  Protestant- 
Church  Parliament,  the  Synod  was  popular  with  most  Cath- 
olic Irishmen. 

43  605 


506  '  iV^£ir  JJIELASD. 

A  great  English  moral  philosopher — Bishop  Butler — has 
observ'ed  that  "it  is  one  of  the  peculiar  weaknesses  of  human 
nature,  when  upon  a  comparison  of  two  things  one  is  found 
to  be  of  greater  importance  than  the  other,  to  consider  this 
other  as  of  scarce  any  importance  at  all."     It  seems  to  be 
only  another  view  of  this  weakness  to  say  that  near  and 
present  objects  have  a  tendency  to  obscure  objects  that  are 
distant  and  remote.     Ireland,  in  the  course  of  the  last  three 
centuries,  has  experienced  several  disestablishments  and  dis- 
endowments ;  but  the  legislation  of  1869  so  engrosses  the  eyes 
of  our  mind  that  we  fail  to  realize  the  previous  processes, 
although   some   of    them    were   every   whit   as   sudden,    as 
thorough,  and  as  revolutionary  as  the  one  carried   out  in 
our  own  day.     Henry  VIII.,  Edward  VI.,  Mary,  Eliza- 
beth, Cromwell,  and  Charles  II.,  all  in  some  sense,  as  well 
as  Mr.  Gladstone,  disestablished  and  disendowed  the  State 
creeds  which  they  found  existing;  and  they  all,  except  Mr. 
Gladstone,  set  up  or  restored  their    OAvn  creed  in  place  of 
that  which  they  destroyed.     Mr.  Gladstone  differs  from  all 
the  preceding  in  this,  that  he  disestablished  the  Church  to 
which  he  belonged;    and  a  comparison  of  his  legislation  with 
that  of  Henry  VIII.  suggests  the  further  curious  anomaly 
that   when    England   was   Catholic  she    disestablished    the 
Catholic  Church  in  Ii-eland,  and  when  she  was  Protestant 
she  disestablished  the  Protestant  Church  in  Ireland. 

Henry's  confiscation  of  Catholic  Church  property,  which 
was  in  fact  continued  and  carried  out  by  Edward  and  Eliza- 
beth (having  been  for  a  little  resisted  by  Mary),  was  sweeping 
and  unsparing.  It  is  impossible  to  calculate  the. money  value 
of  the  spoliation,  the  number  of  livings  seized,  or  the  number 
of  clergy  dispossessed  by  the  Tudors  or  by  Cromwell ;  but 
we  do  know  enough  of  the  condition  in  which  the  clergy 
were  placed  by  both  of  them  to  compare  these  proceedings 
with  Mr.  Gladstone's  measure.     We  know  from  Sir  James 


THE  DISESTABLISHED    CHURCH  507 

Ware  that  Henry  VIII.  dissolved  over  five  hundred  and 
twenty  abbeys  and  monasteries,  and  that  Edward  and  Eliza- 
beth handed  over,  or  intended  to  hand  over,  all  the  Catholic 
benefices  to  Protestant  pastors, — i.e.,  all  the  benefices  that 
escaped  lay  pillage  and  appropriation, — but  how  many  those 
benefices  were,  we  know  not.  We  know,  too,  that  Crom- 
well, while  he  gave  up  the  churches  to  be  ransacked  for 
their  roofs  and  furniture,  reserved  the  Church  lands  and 
tithes  for  the  Parliament,  and  that  he  disposed  of  them  to 
"non-adventurers,"  on  short  leases,  while  he  turned  the 
clergy  adrift.  Under  his  rule  in  Ireland,  Protestant  re- 
ligious ministrations  through  the  country,  so  far  as  they 
were  supplied  at  all,  were  probably  in  the  main  supplied  by 
the  existing  Church  incumbents  who  consented  to  use  the 
Directory  instead  of  the  Prayer  Book,  and  who,  on  the  Pro- 
tector's death,  flocked  in  a  body  to  the  standard  of  the  Resto- 
ration. 

We  have  abundant  information  from  the  highest  sources  as 
to  thfi  condition  of  ecclesiastical  aifairs  from  Henry  VIII.'s 
act  to  Cromwell's  time.  We  have  in  Protestant  historians, 
such  as  Collier,  Cox,  and  Leland ;  in  the  letters  of  lords- 
lieutenant,  governors,  archbishops,  and  judges;  in  the  State 
papers  published  by  the  English  and  Irish  Public  Record 
offices — an  unbroken  stream  of  testimony  complaining  and 
showing  that  the  condition  of  religion  was  scandalous,  and 
the  condition  of  the  clergy  deplorable.  Spenser  the  poet, 
who  wrote  his  "  View  of  the  State  of  Ireland"  about  1594, 
relates  these  things.  The  volumes  of  State  papers  of  James 
I.,  edited  with  a  preface  in  1874  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Russell 
and  Mr.  John  P.  Prendergast,  give  harrowing  statements  by 
Archbishop  Loftus  and  Bishop  Jones,  by  Judge  Saxey  and 
Sir  John  X)avys,  Attorney-General.  They  tell  us  "the 
Churchmen  were  for  the  most  part  ciphers,  and  could  not 
read ;"  that  they  werfe  "  serving-men  and  horseboys,  and  had 


508  -K^^TF  IRELAND. 

two  or  three  benefices  apiece ;"  that  "  gentlemen,  women,  and 
Jesuits  had  the  benefits  of  the  benefices ;"  that  "  the  churches 
were  in  ruins,  and  that  there  w'as  no  divine  service,  no  chris- 
tenings, no  sacrament,  no  congregations,  and  no  more  demon- 
stration of  religion  than  among  Tartars ;"  that  there  were 
"  not  three  sufficient  bishops  in  all  the  kingdom ;"  and  that 
"  the  country  Avas  swarming  with  Catholic  priests  who  were 
maintained  by  noblemen." 

The  Irish  Convocation  itself  certified  to  Charles  I.  (1629) 
that  "  In  the  whole  Christian  world  the  rural  clergy  have 
not  been  reduced  to  such  extreme  contempt  and  beggary  as 
in  this  your  Highness's  kingdom  by  means  of  the  frequent 
appropriations ;  whereby  the  subject  has  been  left  wholly 
destitute  of  all  possible  means  to  learn  piety  to  God  or 
loyalty  to  their  prince."  Such  was  the  condition  in  which 
the  first  disestablishment  left  the  Protestant  religion  and  its 
clergy. 

This  state  of  affairs  continued  in  all  its  features  down  to 
1647.  In  that  year  Lord-Lieutenant  Ormond  surren<;Jered 
Dublin  to  Colonel  Michael  Jones  and  the  parliamentary 
forces,  and  was  publicly  thanked  by  the  Protestants  for 
not  surrendering:  them  to  their  "  natural  enemies  the  Irish 
people."  The  metropolis  was  then  crowded  with  ministers 
who  had  flocked  in  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  escape  the 
ravages  of  the  four  or  five  armies  that  were  marauding  the 
land.  The  unfortunate  men  with  their  families,  deprived  of 
all  means  of  subsistence,  were  literally  fed  by  the  weekly 
allowance  of  bread  granted  them  by  Ormond  ;  and  they  soou 
had  occasion  to  perceive  how  much  reason  there  was  for 
gratitude  to  Colonel  Jones  and  the  Puritans.  They  peti- 
tioned for  leave  to  continue  to  use  the  Prayer  Book  instead 
of  the  Directory,  and  were  refused  as  "  ill  and  unworthy 
preaching  ministers;"  they  petitioned  for  bread,  and  were 
told  that  "  if  they  wanted  State  pay  they  should  do  the  State 


THE  DISESTABLISHED   CHURCH.  609 

some  service  and  enlist."  *  The  degradation  of  the  Episco- 
palians was  now  complete.  The  churches  were  given  up  to 
the  soldiery  for  wreck  and  ruin ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive that  there  can  have  been  any  ministrations  of  religion 
anywhere  outside  the  cities  and  garrison  towns.  This  state 
of  religious  havoc  came  to  an  end  with  the  fall  of  the  Com- 
monwealth; and  the  Restoration  in  1660  replaced  Church 
matters  as  they  in  effect  continued  down  to  the  Whig  Church 
Temporalities  Act  in  1833.  Cromwell's  reservation  of  the 
tithes  and  Church  lands,  and  his  short  leases,  facilitated  the 
restitution  of  the  endowment,  which  was  abundantly  supple- 
mented by  the  Act  of  Settlement  out  of  the  forfeited  lands 
of  the  Catholics ;  and  the  State  Church  was  once  again  made 
wealthy  and  lordly. 

Passing  over  the  intermediate  period  from  the  Restoration 
to  Lord  Grey's  Whig  ministry,  we  come  to  the  statistics  of 
the  first  Irish  Church  Temporalities  Act  in  1833.  Lord 
Althorp,  the  Home  Secretary,  then  informed  Parliament 
that  the  Irish  benefices  were  at  that  time  fourteen  hundred 
and  one,  four  archbishops  and  eighteen  bishops,  twenty-two 
dioceses;  the  net  income  of  the  prelates  £130,000  a  year, 
the  total  Church  revenue  £732,000  a  year;  and  that  there 
were  fifty-seven  churches  in  which  no  service  had  been  per- 
formed for  three  years.  The  act,  besides  abolishing  the 
parish  cess,  suppressed  two  archbishoprics,  eight  bishoprics, 
the  unused  churches,  and  handed  over  the  amount  of  income, 
about  £113,000  a  year,  to  the  then  appointed  Ecclesiastical 
Commission  for  the  supply  of  Church  requisites  throughout 
the  country.  In  1867  the  late  Lord  Derby,  who,  as  Irish 
Secretary,  helped  to  carry  the  act  of  1833,  issued  a  commis- 


*  Kev.  Dr.  Kussell  and  Mr.  Prendergast's  "  Keport  on  the  Carte 
Manuscripts,"  pp.  104,  105,  in  32d  Report  of  Irish  Public  Record 
Office,  1871. 

43* 


510  ^EW  IRELAND. 

sion  to  report  on  the  temporalities  of  the  Irish  Church,  and 
that  commission  reported  two  archbishops,  ten  bishops,  thirty- 
two  deans,  thirty-three  archdeacons,  fifteen  hundred  and  nine 
incumbents  and  five  hundred  curates,  fifteen  hundred  and 
eighteen  benefices ;  the  net  income  of  the  prelates  £58,031, 
and  the  total  income  of  the  Church  £613,984  a  year. 

So  matters  stood  with  the  Episcopal  Protestant  Church  of 
Ireland  in  1868.  When  in  the  following  year  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's great  act  became  law,  the  Church  was  found  to  contain 
two  thousand  and  fifty-nine  annuitants,  mainly  clergy,  to- 
gether with  a  few  laymen  connected  -with  the  cathedrals  as 
vicars-choral.  To  these  annuities  to  the  amount  of  £590,892 
were  payable.  The  Church  had  also  possession  of  various 
sums  the  amount  not  easy  to  determine,  arising  out  of  pri- 
vate endowments,  together  with  the  glebes,  episcopal  palaces, 
and  churches.  By  the  act  of  Disestablishment  she  was  de- 
prived of  all  except  the  churches.  In  lieu  of  the  private  en- 
dowments a  sum  of  £500,000  was  granted  ;  while  glebes  and 
bishops'  houses  were  made  purchasable  on  certain  easy  terms 
prescribed  by  the  Act.  In  dealing  with  the  annuitants,  the 
simple  principle  was  adopted  of  paying  every  man  his  due  as 
long  as  he  lived.  In  order  to  avoid  the  long  and  tedious 
process  which  should  otherwise  have  to  be  undertaken  by 
the  Treasury,  certain  terms  of  commutation  were  offered  ;  viz., 
the  pavment  of  a  capital  sum  for  each  annuitant's  case, — 
depending  on  his  age,  the  Government  offices'  rate  of  mor- 
tality and  value  of  money  three  and  a  half  per  cent.,  to 
which  was  finally  added  twelve  per  cent,  on  the  capital  sums 
thus  estimated  in  consideration  of  supposed  better  average 
life  of  clergy,  and  of  the  expenses  of  management.  On  re- 
ceipt of  these  sums,  the  clergy  consenting  to  the  extent  of 
three-fourths  of  their  number  in  each  diocese,  the  Represen- 
tative Body,  chartered  by  the  Crown,  was  to  undertake  the 
payment  of  the  annuities.     After  consideration,  the  bishops 


THE  DISESTABLISHED    CHURCH.  ^\\ 

and  clergy — with  the  exception  of  about  a  hundred  of  their 
number — accepted  these  terms ;  in  consequence  of  which  the 
Representative  Body  has  received  in  the  shape  of  advances 
from  the  Treasury,  through  the  Irish  Church  Temporalities 
Commission,  sums  for  commutation  of  annuities  amounting 
to  £7,563,144.  The  number  of  annuitants  was  2059  ;  annui- 
ties payable,  £590,892 ;  commutation  capital,  £7,563,144 ; 
interest  of  money,  2>^  per  cent.;  year's  purchase,  12.8; 
average  age,  56. 

It  will  be  seen  that  a  return  of  eight  per  cent,  on  the  com- 
mutation capital  would  pay  the  annuities.  It  was  antici- 
pated that  by  judicious  investment  four  per  cent,  could  be 
earned.  The  principle  enforced  by  those  who  led  the  move- 
ment wliich  ended  in  inducing  the  clergy  to  commute  for 
their  incomes,  nnd  take  the  Representative  Body  as  their 
paymaster  instead  of  the  Treasury,  may  be  thus  stated  :  "If 
you  consent  to  commute,  and  if  we  can  induce  the  laity  to 
subscribe  an  annual  sum  equal  to  the  other  four  per  cent.,  we 
shall  be  able  to  save  the  capital,  to  pay  your  annuities,  and 
prevent  the  entire  burden  of  supporting  religion  from  falling 
on  our  descendants."  To  the  laity  they  addressed  the  same 
language,  saying  in  addition,  "Under  the  Act  you  are  entitled 
to  the  life-services  of  your  clergy  without  paying  them  a 
penny.  If  you  adopt  a  selfish  policy,  and  say"  (as  some  did), 
"  '  We  will  enjoy  this  benefit ;  and  let  those  that  come  after 
take  care  of  themselves,'  a  burden  will  be  thrown  on  Irish 
Protestants  which  will  be  difficult  to  bear ;  for  the  day  must 
come  W'hen  the  last  penny  will  have  to  be  sold  out  to  pay  the 
last  man  of  the  annuitants."  These  arguments  prevailed, 
and,  as  will  be  seen,  the  Irish  Protestant  laity  have  done 
their  duty  manfully  by  their  Church.* 

When  the  act  was  framed  it  was  foreseen  that  there  would 

*  The  great  defaulters  were  the  absentee  Protestant  land  proprietors. 


512  ^EW  IRELAND. 

be  a  considerable  reduction  in  the  nunober  of  the  clergy,  and 
accordingly  all  the  annuitants  were  enabled  to  enter  into 
terms  with  the  Representative  Body  by  which  their  services 
might  be  dispensed  with,  and  in  consideration  a  certain  por- 
tion of  the  capital  sum  corresponding  to  their  annuities 
would  go  to  the  Representative  Body  for  Church  purposes. 
Under  this  authority  a  Table  of  Compositions  was  framed, 
on  the  principle  that  an  annuitant  of  thirty-five  years  of  age 
should  get  one-third,  one  of  sixty-five  and  upwards  two- 
thirds,  of  his  commutation  capital ;  the  sum  increasing  by 
one-ninetieth  for  each  year  of  age  between  these  limits,  and 
going  down  by  a  ninetieth  for  ages  below  thirty-five.  Under 
this  table  a  considerable  number  of  the  annuitants  com- 
pounded ;  as  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  between  com- 
pounders and  deaths  during  the  seven  years  from  1870  to 
1877  the  number  of  annuitants  has  been  reduced  to  one 
thousand  and  fifty-two.  By  the  operation  of  composition 
there  was  of  course  a  large  reduction  in  the  commutation 
capital,  a  corresponding  reduction  in  annuities  payable,  and 
a  large  Composition  Balance  acquired  for  Church  purposes, 
amounting  at  present  to  about  £1,300,000. 

At  first  it  was  intended  to  administer  the  whole  finance 
of  the  Church  from  one  centre  in  Dublin ;  but  on  better  re- 
flection a  kind  of  "  Home  Rule"  or  "  Federal  plan"  has 
been  adopted.  Each  diocese  manages  its  own  affairs,  subject 
to  certain  general  principles,  under  the  control  of  the  Repre- 
sentative Body,  which  meets  once  a  month  in  Dublin.  This 
body  consists  of  forty-eight  elected  and  twelve  co-opted  mem- 
bers. Election  and  co-option  take  place  every  year ;  but 
members  once  elected  or  co-opted  liold  their  places  for  three 
years.  All  money  collected  under  these  schemes  is  sent  up 
to  headquarters,  and  paid  out  again  as  stipends  (under  war- 
rants drawn  on  the  Bank  of  Ireland)  to  the  proper  parties, 
as  directed  by  the  several  diocesan  councils.     During  the  last 


THE  DISESTABLISHED   CHURCH.  6I3 

seven  years  the  laity  have  contributed  in  this  way  £1,610,703, 
of  which  £37,500  was  received  from  England.  In  addition 
to  this  must  be  counted  all  the  sums  expended  in  each  locality 
by  the  select  vestries  of  each  parish  for  care  of  churches. 
Estimating  this  at  the  moderate  sum  of  eighty  pounds  each 
for  twelve  hundred  and  forty-three  parishes,  the  present  num- 
ber, this  would  represent  a  further  contribution  of  £596,640; 
so  that  in  all  the  laity  have  contributed  within  the  last  seven 
years  £2,207,343, — a  fact  which  deserves  to  be  widely  known 
to  the  credit  of  the  Protestants  of  Ireland.  The  operation 
of  these  "Diocesan  schemes"  consists  mainly  in  forming  a 
"  Stipend  Fund"  for  future  purposes.  Several  "  unions"  of 
parishes  have  been  effected  for  economy,  but  very  few  if  any 
have  been  suppressed. 

Many  and  wide  were  the  speculations  as  to  how  Disestab- 
lishment would  aiFect  the  doctrine  and  rubrics  of  the  Irish 
Protestant  Church.  Although  legislatively  united  in  1800, 
and  declared  to  be  "  one  and  indivisible,"  the  English  and 
Irish  Churches  were  never,  since  1640,  identical  in  the  nature 
and  spirit  of  their  Protestantism.  The  former  was  on  the 
whole  Lutheran  or  High  Church ;  the  latter  was  on  the  whole 
Calvinist  or  Low  Church.  In  England  the  Restoration 
almost  effaced  the  characteristics  of  Puritan  Protestantism. 
In  Ireland  that  event  made  little  change,  and  Irish  Protest- 
antism visibly  retains  to  this  day  the  imprint  it  received  at 
the  Cromwellian  period.  Legislative  regulation  created  a 
uniformity  between  the  two  bodies  sure  to  be  modified  on 
such  an  opportunity  as  that  presented  by  Disestablishment. 
For  the  last  four  or  five  years  the  Church  Synod  in  Dublin 
has  been  engaged  in  the  critical  and  serious  purpose  of 
revision.  To  any  one  who  could  regard  with  levity  the 
labors  of  earnest  and  conscientious  men  engaged  in  such  a 
work,  the  debates,  often  angry  and  stormy,  sometimes  truly 
comical  in  their  episodes,  would  afford  great  scope  for  sarcasm. 
2h 


514  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

An  extreme  party  seemed  plainly  bent  on  "  revising"  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer  into  a  blank,  and  reforming  the  Refor- 
mation in  the  most  sweeping  manner.  The  episcopal  office 
and  clerical  character  seemed  to  them  remaining  relics  of 
antique  Romanism.  The  supernatural  in  sacramental  sub- 
jects they  appeared  to  regard  as  merely  superstitious.  Several 
times  did  a  secession  seem  inevitable.  More  than  once  did 
Dr.  Trench  in  mournful  tone  point  out  the  logical  tendency 
of  some  of  the  changes  proposed.  Nevertheless  it  may  be 
said  that  the  middle  party  has  carried  its  way,  and  moderated 
everything.  The  three  principal  questions  discussed  have 
been  (1)  the  damnatory  clauses  of  the  Athanasian  Creed; 
(2)  the  baptismal  service  ("  seeing  that  this  child  is  now  regen- 
erate") ;  and  (3)  the  Ordinal, — the  words  "  Receive  the  Holy 
Ghost  for  the  office  and  work  of  a  priest  in  the  Church 
of  God."  The  last  two  were  left  untouched,  after  much 
discussion.  As  to  the  first,  it  was  in  one  year's  Synod  carried 
that  the  damnatory  clauses  should  be  altogether  omitted,  as 
forming  no  part  of  the  articles  of  belief.  Ultimately  the 
Creed  was  left  untouched  in  its  place,  but  the  mandatory 
rubric  requiring  it  to  be  read  thirteen  times  in  the  year  in 
the  public  service  was  removed. 

The  episcopal  Protestant  Church  of  Ireland  has  lost  no- 
thing, and  has  gained  much,  especially  in  its  freedom  of 
action,  by  Disestablishment.  Yet  what  a  revolution,  what  a 
change  from  the  Old  Ireland  to  the  New,  does  this  one  event 
alone  bring  to  our  view !  Tiiere  is  no  conviction  deeper  or 
stronffer  in  the  Eng-lish  mind  to-dav  than  was  the  conviction 
forty  years  ago — nay,  twenty  years  ago — that  England  would 
spend  her  last  shilling  and  fire  her  last  gun  in  maintaining 
the  State  connection  and  ascendency  of  the  Protestant  Church 
in  Ireland.  AVhat  overthrow  of  the  empire  was  not  such 
a  frightful  event  as  Disestablishment  supposed  to  involve ! 
It  has  come  to  pass,  and,  lo !  the  empire  stands ! 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 


IRELAND    AT   WESTMINSTER. 


The  Kerry  election  fulfilled  in  its  effects  the  anticipa- 
tions of  English  and  Irish  public  opinion.  It  was  accepted 
on  all  hands  as  a  decisive  event.  Every  one  realized  that  it 
marked  an  important  turning-point  in  Irish  politics,  that  an 
entirely  new  era  was  at  hand. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  the  Home  Government  Asso- 
ciation— which  had  always  declared  itself  to  be  merely  the 
precursor  of  a  really  authoritative  national  body — to  sum- 
mon the  country  as  it  were  into  council,  and  let  Ireland  dis- 
cuss and  formulate  the  national  programme.  Hitherto  the 
members  of  that  organization  were  only  a  party,  pushing 
their  propaganda  so  far  no  doubt  with  overwhelming  success. 
But  there  were  other  parties  in  the  country.  There  were 
the  old  Repeal  party,  the  Liberal  party,  the  Land  party,  the 
Catholic  Education  party, — the  latter  supposed  to  include 
most  of  the  bishops;  and  above  all  there  was  the  Fenian 
party,  broken,  disrupted,  and  weakened,  but  not  destroyed. 
None  of  them  had  the  mandate  of  the  country  authorizing  it 
to  lead  the  way. 

In  the  autumn  of  1873  the  Council  of  the  Home  Govern- 
ment Association  decided  to  co-operate  in  calling  a  great 
National  Conference  to  consider  the  question  of  Home  Rule. 
There  was  hesitation  and  debate  for  some  time  as  to  whether 
it  should  be  convened  by  an  ''open"  requisition — that  is, 
one  expressing  no  opinion  on  the  subject  or  scheme  to  be 
considered — or  by  one  which  would  in  itself  be  a  National 
Declaration.     I  was  among  those  who  favored  the  former 

515 


516  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

view ;  but  Mr.  Butt,  who  was  on  the  other  side,  prevailed. 
He  argued  with  much  force  that  no  matter  what  pains  might 
be  taken  to  render  the  Conference  an  influential  and  rep- 
resentative assembly,  the  English  press  might  still  say  its 
utterance  was  only  the  decision  of  some  three  or  four  hun- 
dred individuals ;  whereas  a  National  Requisition,  signed  by 
ten  thousand  persons  of  position  and  influence,  affirming  the 
Home  Rule  scheme,  would  in  itself  be  a  great  authority. 
In  October,  1873,  accordingly,  a  requisition  was  circulated 
through  the  post  to  members  of  corporations,  town  commis- 
sioners, and  other  popularly  elected  representatives,  magis- 
trates, clergymen,  members  of  Parliament,  etc.,  in  the  fol- 
lowing terms : 

"  We,  the  undersigned,  feel  bound  to  declare  our  conviction  that  it  is 
necessary  to  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  Ireland,  and  would  be  con- 
ducive to  the  strength  and  stability  of  the  United  Kingdom,  that  the 
right  of  domestic  legislation  on  all  Irish  affairs  should  be  restored  to 
our  country ;  and  that  it  is  desirable  that  Irishmen  should  unite  to 
obtain  that  restoration  upon  the  following  principles." 

The  principles  of  the  Home  Government  Association,  as 
given  in  a  previous  chapter,  were  then  set  forth,  and  the 
Requisition  concluded  in  these  words : 

"  We  hereby  invite  a  Conference  to  be  held,  at  such  time  and  place 
as  may  be  found  generally  roost  convenient,  of  all  those  favorable  to 
the  above  principles,  to  consider  the  best  and  most  expedient  means  of 
carrying  them  into  practical  effect." 

The  desire  being  to  obtain  not  so  much  a  long  list  of  un- 
known names  as  the  signatures  of  representative  persons,  or 
men  in  whatsoever  position  known  to  command  either  social 
or  popular  influence,  the  document  was  not  left  at  public 
places,  or  indiscriminately  circulated.  Nevertheless,  in  a  few 
weeks  it  had  received  the  signatures  not  of  merely  ten  thou- 
sand such  persons,  as  was  hoped  for,  but  twenty-five  thou- 


IRELAND  AT    WESTMINSTER.  517 

sand.  Every  class  and  creed,  every  profession,  every  repre- 
sentative body,  was  represented  in  that  vast  array.  As  Mr. 
Butt  anticipated,  it  was  very  generally  felt  that  such  a 
Declaration  was  in  itself  a  national  authorization. 

On  Tuesday,  the  18th  of  November,  1873,  and  on  the 
three  next  succeeding  days,  the  Conference  assembled  in  the 
great  circular  hall  of  the  Rotunda, — a  place  of  meeting 
selected  not  merely  because  of  its  size,  but  for  its  historic 
associations.  There  it  was  that  the  celebrated  Convention 
of  the  Irish  volunteers,  under  the  Earl  of  Charlemont,  held 
their  deliberations  in  1783.  For  nearly  a  century  that  hall 
had  been  the  scene  of  the  most  striking  and  important  polit- 
ical displays.  There  was  not  an  orator  or  patriot  whose  name 
survives  in  the  history  of  the  past  century  whose  voice  had 
not  echoed  within  those  walls.  Nearly  nine  hundred  dele- 
gates or  members,  gathered  from  every  county  in  the  king- 
dom, attended  on  this  occasion;  and  the  galleries  thrown 
open  to  the  public,  capable  of  accommodating  six  hundred 
persons,  were  crowded  throughout  the  four  days'  session  with 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  many  of  whom  had  come  long  distances 
in  order  to  be  present. 

With  one  voice  the  presidency  of  this  important  assembly 
was  conferred  on  Mr.  William  Shaw,  M.P.,  a  Protestant  gen- 
tleman of  high  character,  a  banker  and  leading  merchant  in 
Cork  city.  There  was  much  curiosity  as  to  what  the  tone 
and  temper  of  the  proceedings  would  be.  Some  of  the  lead- 
ing Liberal  organs  in  London  told  their  readers  all  about  it 
two  days  before  the  chair  was  taken.  There  would  be  "a 
Donnybrook  row  in  the  first  hour  of  the  sitting."  The  Con- 
ference certainly  was  not  what  is  called  "  a  Quaker's  meet- 
ing;" there  was  free  and  active  discussion;  every  point  under 
consideration  was  canvassed  closely.  But  the  British  Parlia- 
ment in  its  best  days  was  never  more  orderly,  with  a  really 
important  national  subject  under  debate,  from  first  to  last. 

44 


618  ^^^W  IRELAND. 

Throughout  the  four  days  no  division  was  challenged  on  any 
resolution  but  one,  and  against  that  a  solitary  yoice  was  raised. 
With  scarcely  an  alteration,  the  principles  and  programme  of 
the  Home  Government  Association  were  affirmed  by  national 
authority,  and,  that  organization  thereupon  being  dissolved, 
a  new  one,  "  The  Irish  Home  Rule  League,"  was  established 
to  take  charge  of  the  national  movement.  By  the  early  part 
of  December  this  body  was  organized.  The  Christmas  holi- 
days were  now  close  at  hand ;  it  was  necessary  to  postpone  for 
a  few  weeks  the  commencement  of  active  operations,  but  it 
was  decided  to  open  the  new  year  with  a  vigorous  registry 
campaign  all  over  the  kingdoin.  By  the  middle  of  January, 
1874,  a  series  of  reports  on  the  condition  of  the  several  con- 
stituencies were  forthcoming.  From  these  it  was  clear  that 
by  attention  to  the  registries  in  the  ensuing  summer  and 
autumn,  seventy-two  Home  Rule  members  out  of  one  hun- 
dred and  three  Irish  representatives  might  certainly  be  re- 
turned at  the  next  general  election.  That  the  session  about 
to  open  in  February  would  be  the  last  of  the  existing  Parlia- 
ment, that  there  would  be  a  dissolution  in  the  autumn,  was 
accepted  as  a  certainty.  The  only  fear  which  now  troubled 
the  League  was  that  the  elections  might  be  taken  in  the 
early  sumuier,  before  the  next  revision  of  the  parliamentary 
voters'  lists.  In  this  cjase  the  opportunity  would  be  half  lost; 
not  more  than  thirty  seats,  it  was  thought,  could  be  carried. 
A  stunning  surprise  was  about  to  burst  upon  us  all ! 

On  Saturday  morning,  the  24th  of  January,  1874,  the 
announcement  was  flashed  throughout  the  kingdom  that  Mr. 
Gladstone  had  *'  dissolved."  Xot  a  whisper  of  such  a  deter- 
mination on  his  part  had  been  heard  even  tiie  previous  day. 
It  was  only  after  midnight  that  a  favored  few  learned  the 
astonishing  fact  by  telegraph.  The  coup  was  so  sudden  that 
it  staggered  every  one,  friend  and  foe.  To  us  of  the  Home 
Rule  League  it  brought  something  like  dismay.     Here  we 


IRELAND  AT    WESTMINSTER.  519 

were,  caught  at  utter  disadvantage, — no  registries  completed, 
no  constituencies  organized,  no  candidates  selected.  Yet  never 
did  men  encounter  so  sudden  and  serious  an  emergency  more 
resolutely  than  the  council  of  the  League  faced  this  trial. 
They  "  stripped  to  the  work,"  and  may  be  said  to  have  set 
en  permanence  from  two  o'clock  on  Sunday,  the  25tli  of  Jan- 
uary, till  Saturday,  the  14th  of  February.  They  issued  an 
"Address  to  the  People  of  Ireland,"  telling  them  that  under 
the  circumstances  of  this  surprise  every  constituency  must 
only  fight  its  own  battle,  and  let  a  grand  enthusiasm  compen- 
sate for  want  of  preparation.  It  was  a  furious  combat.  One 
formidable  difficulty  soon  embarrassed  the  Home  Rulers, — a 
want  of  suitable  candidates.  The  League  Council  had  set 
out  with  refusing  to  supply  or  "  recommend"  any,  preferring 
to  let  each  locality  select  for  itself.  This  idea,  however,  had 
to  be  abandoned.  From  north,  south,  east,  and  west  came  the 
imj)ortunate  appeal,  "  Send  us  a  candidate."  "  Candidates  ! 
candidates  !"  Avas  the  cry.  "  Here  is  our  county  going  adrift 
for  want  of  a  candidate !"  "  Is  our  borough  to  be  lost  in 
this  way  for  want  of  a  candidate  ?  Send  us  any  one  who  is 
a  Home  Ruler  !"  Anything  like  choice  as  to  ability  had  to 
be  given  up  as  hopeless,  the  only  qualification  required  being 
honesty  of  adherence  to  Home  Rule.  Nothing  could  better 
exemplify  the  temper  of  the  Irish  constituencies — the  inex- 
orable determination  to  grasp  a  candidate  of  some  sort,  or  any 
sort,  who  would  declare  for  Home  Rule — than  what  occurred 
in  Waterford  County.  That  constituency  was  overwhelm- 
ingly Home  Rule,  yet  in  the  utter  want  of  candidates  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  allow  the  late  members.  Lord  Charles 
Beresford,  Conservative,  and  Sir  John  Esraonde,  Liberal,  to 
be  re-elected  unopposed.  The  people  were  indignant.  An 
unknown  London  "  carpet-bagger,"  whose  name  has  escaped 
my  memory,  ran  across  one  day  from  Paddington  and  issued 
bright-green  placards  announcing  himself  effusively  as  a  can- 


520  ^^EW  IRELAND. 

didate  in  favor  of  Home  Rule.  He  was  hailed  with  rapture. 
The  League  denounced  his  candidature,  and  issued  an  address 
beseeching  the  electors  not  to  be  fooled  by  so  offensive  and 
barefaced  a  trick.  Neither  Lord  Charles  Beresford  nor  Sir 
John  Esmonde  was  a  Home  Ruler,  but  they  both  were  hon- 
orable men  in  public  life.  There  was  a  friendly  regard  for 
Lord  Charles  as  brother  of  the  Marquis  of  Waterford.  Sir 
John  Esmonde  was  by  marriage  the  representative  of  Henry 
Grattan's  family,  which  counted  for  much  with  Irishmen. 
To  reject  either  of  these  gentlemen  for  a  Man  in  the  Moon 
"  Home  Ruler"  from  London  Bridge  would  have  been  mon- 
strous.  Every  exertion  was  accordingly  used  by  the  League 
leaders  to  expose  the  transaction.  However,  the  clever  Cock- 
ney polled  several  hundred  votes  as  a  "  Home  Ruler." 

It  was  a  serious  reflection  how  far  men  returned  in  such 
haste  and  at  such  hap-hazard  as  this  would  be  found  to  supply 
the  elements  requisite  for  the  formation  of  a  really  influential 
and  effective  parliamentary  party.  How  many  of  them  would 
be  half-hearted  men,  Liberals  who  hoisted  Home  Rule  to  secure 
re-election  ?  How  many  of  them  would  be  extreme  men,  who 
would  tire  of  a  Fabian  policy  and  soon  cry  out  that  modera- 
tion and  constitutionalism  had  failed  ?  How  many  of  them 
would  exhibit  a  fatal  complaisance  lest  they  might  be  thought 
"extreme"?  How  many  would  lack  the  intelligence  or  the 
manly  courage  to  adopt  a  moderate  course,  lest  it  might  be 
thought  "  unpopular"  ?  Would  a  party  so  returned  exhibit 
unity,  cohesion,  strength,  or  would  they  prove  to  be  "  a  heap 
of  uncemented  sand"  ?  These  were  pressing  anxieties  in 
many  a  breast  throughout  that  time. 

At  length  the  desperate  struggle  was  over;  the  last  return 
was  made,  and  men,  drawing  breath,  looked  around  to  see 
how  the  day  had  gone.  A  great  shout  went  up  from  Ireland. 
"  Victory !  Victory !"  Avas  the  cry  from  end  to  end  of  the 
land.     For  the  first  time,  under  the  shield  of  the  ballot,  a 


IRELAND  AT    WESTMINSTER.  521 

national  representation  freely  elected  by  the  people  had  been 
returned ;  and  for  the  first  time  since  the  overthrow  of  the 
Irish  Parliament  in  1800  a  clear  and  strong  majority  of  the 
national  representation  were  arrayed  in  solemn  league  and 
covenant  to  restore  it.  None  were  more  astonished  than  the 
Home  Rule  leaders  at  the  extent  of  their  success.  Under  the 
disadvantages  of  "  the  Gladstone  surprise/'  they  had  hoped 
to  return  between  thirty  and  forty  men.  They  had  carried 
about  sixty  seats.*  In  the  previous  Parliament  there  sat 
for  Irish  constituencies  fifty-five  Liberals,  thirty-eight  Con- 
servatives, and  ten  Home  Rulers.  The  new  elections  re- 
turned twelve  Liberals,  thirty-one  Conservatives,  and  sixty 
Home  Rulers.  Ulster  sent  two  Home  Rulers  and  five 
Liberals  for  seats  previously  held  by  Conservatives.  The 
two  Ulster  Home  Rulers  were  returned  by  Cavan  County. 
The  prosperous  capital  of  Northern  Protestantism,  Belfast, 
furnished  one  of  these  gentlemen,  Mr.  Joseph  Gillis  Biggar, 
late  chairman  of  the  Belfast  Water  Commissionei-s.  The 
other,  Mr.  Charles  Joseph  Fay,  belonged  to  an  old  and  in- 
fluential Catholic  family  in  the  county.  The  successful 
Liberals  in  the  same  province  were  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford, 
returned  for  the  county  Down, — son  of  that  Mr.  William 
Sharman  Crawford,  M.P.,  referred  to  in  a  previous  chapter 
as  the  veteran  leader  of  the  Protestant  Tenant-Right  party ; 
Mr.  Taylor  for  Coleraine;  Mr.  Dickson,  who  came  in  for 
historic  Dungannon, — both  of  these  gentlemen  being  large 
manufacturers  in  the  North  ;  Mr.  Hugh  Law,  Q.C.,  and  Mr. 


*  They  suffered  but  two  defeats.  In  Monaghan  County  Mr.  John 
Madden  of  Hilton  Park,  Conservative  Home  Euler,  failed  to  obtain 
election ;  and  in  Tralee  borough  The  O'Donoghue,  as  an  anti-Home 
Rule  Liberal,  defeated  Mr.  Daly,  Mayor  of  Cork,  the  Home  Rule  can- 
didate, by  three  votes.  I  believe  the  majority  of  votes  actually  given 
was  against  The  O'Donoghue;  but  through  informality  in  marking 
some  of  the  ballot-papers  he  was  "  counted  in"  by  three  votes. 

44* 


522  iV^£ir  IRELAND. 

E-ichard  Smyth,  for  Derry  County.  Mr.  Law  held  an  emi- 
nent position  at  the  bar,  and  was  Solicitor-General  for  Ire- 
laud.  Mr.  Smyth  \vas  a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  had  been 
Moderator  of  the  General  Assembly  a  few  years  previously, 
and  was  just  then  Professor  of  Oriental  Languages  in  the 
Presbyterian  College  of  Derry.  Of  the  Irish  Home  Rulers, 
eleven  were  Protestants,  and  forty-eight  Catholics ;  of  the 
Liberals,  nine  were  Protestants,  three  Catholics ;  all  the  Con- 
servatives were  Protestants.  It  may  be  doubted  that  any 
constituency  in  Ireland  made  a  greater  sacrifice  in  demonstra- 
tion of  its  Home  Rule  convictions  than  the  town  of  Drogheda. 
Its  representation  was  sought  by  INIr.  Benjamin  Whitworth, 
a  Protestant  Liberal  gentleman.  He  Mas  a  leading  merchant 
in  Manchester,  but  was  connected  with  Drogheda  by  family, 
by  birth,  and  by  the  ties  of  numerous  benefits  conferred  on 
the  town  as  an  employer  and  a  citizen.  Mr.  AVhitworth 
would  be  strongly  in  favor  of  Home  Rule  if  he  were  sure  it 
did  not  involve  separation.  He  feared  it  did,  and  so  he 
w^ould  not  declare  for  the  one  question  now  supreme  in  the 
popular  estimation.  The  disappointment,  the  regret,  of  the 
Droglieda  people  was  something  astonishing.  There  was  not 
a  man  in  the  universe  they  would  rather  elect  "  if  he  would 
but  say  the  one  word."  Had  Mr.  Whitworth  been  like  too 
many  politicians,  he  might  easily  have  managed  the  difficulty 
by  a  slippery  or  ambiguous  phrase ;  but  he  was  too  honest 
for  that.  The  constituency  on  their  part  were  too  regardful 
of  duty  and  principle  to  give  way.  A  deputation  went  up 
to  the  League  for  a  "  candidate,"  and  roundly  swore  they 
would  not  leave  Dublin  without  one.  With  some  difficulty 
they  found  a  gentleman  who  consented  to  stand,  and  they 
placed  him  at  the  head  of  the  poll. 

I  think  I  may  say  the  next  most  striking  exemplification 
of  the  intensity  of  the  popular  feeling  was  displayed  in  my 
own  election  by  the  county  of  Louth,  for  which  I  was  returned 


IRELAND  AT    WESTMINSTER.  523 

by  a  majority  of  two  to  one  over  the  Right  Hon.  Chichester 
Fortescue,  now  Lord  Carlingford.  Mr.  Fortescue  was  one 
of  the  leaders  and  chiefs  of  the  Liberal  party.  He  was  a  man 
of  recognized  ability,  and  filled  a  prominent  place  not  only  in 
Irish  but  imperial  politics.  He  was  a  Cabinet  minister  in  the 
Gladstone  administration  at  the  time  of  this  contest,  and,  as 
Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland,  virtually  governed  the  country. 
For  no  less  than  twenty-seven  years  consecutively  he  had 
represented  Louth.  He  was  brother  of  Lord  Clermont,  one 
of  the  most  extensive  land-owners,  one  of  the  best  and  the 
kindliest,  in  the  county.  Personally  no  man  had  a  higher 
position  or  stronger  claims.  But  he  had  passed  the  severest 
Coercion  Bill  ever  imposed  upon  Ireland,  and  was  of  course 
opposed  to  Home  Rule.  The  Louth  contest  was  naturally 
considered  one  of  the  most  important  in  the  whole  campaign. 
Its  result,  the  defeat  of  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Fortescue,  created 
a  profound  sensation. 

While  Home  Rule  was  placed  first  and  beyond  all  public 
measures  or  subjects,  there  were  three  others,  which  went  to 
make  up  what  may  be  called  the  national  platform  at  this 
election  :  Amendment  of  the  Gladstone  Land  Act ;  Denomi- 
national Education ;  and  an  Amnesty  for  the  Political  Pris- 
oners. These  three  questions  commanded  the  individual 
support  of  the  Home  Rule  members  in  nearly  every  case. 

It  was  singular  to  note  how  largely  Irish  Protestantism 
had  on  this  occasion,  as  so  often  before,  furnished  leaders  to 
the  national  movement.  The  Home  Rule  chief,  par  excel- 
lence, was  Isaac  Butt,  and  beside  him  there  were  John  Mar- 
tin, Mitchell-Henry,  William  Shaw,  and  Sir  John  Gray, — all 
Protestants.  Equally  remarkable  was  the  fact  that  the  most 
Catholic,  or,  as  it  would  be  said,  "  Ultramontane,"  constitu- 
encies elected  Protestant  Home  Rulers.  Those  who  believe 
that  Irish  Catholics  import  religious  exclusiveness  into  poli- 
tics, or  doubt  that  Protestant  lord  and  Catholic  peasant  might 


524  iV^^TF  IRELAND. 

mingle  in  community  of  feeling  as  Irishmen,  should  see  Lord 
Francis  Conyngham  in  the  midst  of  the  "  frieze  coats"  of 
Clare,  the  object  of  loyal  confidence,  hearty  affection,  and 
personal  devotion. 

The  dissolution  of  1874  was  a  disastrous  coup  for  the  great 
leader  of  English  Liberalism.  It  resulted  in  the  overthrow 
of  his  party.  The  new  Parliament  opened  with  a  Conserva- 
tive ministry  not  only  in  office  but  in  power.  Mr.  Disraeli 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  devoted 
followers ;  while  not  more  than  about  two  hundred  and  forty 
stood  beneath  the  banner  of  the  late  Premier.  As  to  the 
remaining  sixty,  a  state  of  things  previously  unknown  was 
about  to  present  itself.  Immediately  on  the  conclusion  of 
the  elections,  the  Irish  Home  Rule  members  assembled  in  the 
council-chamber  of  the  City  Hall,  Dublin,  and  after  delibera- 
tion earnest  and  prolonged  adopted  resolutions  constituting 
themselves  "a  separate  and  distinct  party  in  the  House  of 
Commons."  In  truth  it  was  upon  this  understanding,  ex- 
pressed or  implied,  they  were  one  and  all  returned.  They 
forthwith  proceeded  to  make  the  requisite  arrangements  to 
such  an  end.  Nine  of  their  body  were  elected  to  act  as  an 
executive  council.  Secretaries  and  "  whips"  were  duly  ap- 
pointed. Motions  and  measures  were  agreed  upon  for  intro- 
duction. Thus  constituted,  marshalled,  and  organized,  the 
Irish  Home  Rulers  took  their  seats  in  the  imperial  Parlia- 
ment. 

Serious  and  difficult  was  the  work  those  men  had  entered 
on.  It  had  been  no  light  and  easy  task  to  bring  the  Irish 
millions  anew  to  give  their  confidence  to  constitutional  en- 
deavors. The  resorts  of  physical  force  they  did  not  indeed 
believe  in,  else  the  Fenian  enterprise  had  been  more  formid- 
able ;  but  not  a  great  deal  more  brightly  had  they  at  first  re- 
garded the  prospects  of  parliamentary  action.  Behind  that 
Home  Rule  party  at  Westminster  stood  those  millions,  hoping, 


IRELAND  AT    WESTMINSTER.  525 

doubting,  fearing;  eagerly  and  narrowly  watching  every  move; 
ready  to  reciprocate  conciliation,  but  dangerously  quick  to  re- 
sent hostility.  The  bulk  of  the  nation  was  fairly  willing  to 
try  out  a  reasonably  patient,  persevering  policy,  but  there  was 
a  section  who  hoped  nothing  from  Parliament,  and  who  would 
rejoice  to  find  the  English  members  voting  down  everything 
with  an  undiscriminating  "  No !"  The  Home  Rule  leaders 
knew  the  nature  of  the  elements  they  had  to  deal  with,  and 
were  fully  aware  that  events  might  throw  the  game  into  the 
hands  of  the  more  extreme  and  impatient  section  of  their 
people.  They  decided  to  offer  a  bridge  to  the  opposing  forces 
of  Irish  demand  and  English  refusal.  Apart  from  the  ques- 
tion of  Home  Rule,  which  they  knew  would  require  much 
time,  they  resolved  to  lay  before  the  House  of  Commons  sev- 
eral schemes  of  practical  legislation,  the  merits  of  which  could 
hardly  be  contested,  and  the  success  of  which  might  fairly  be 
expected.  The  concession  of  these  would,  on  the  one  hand, 
lead  the  English  people  gradually  to  look  into  the  nature  of 
Irish  claims,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  lead  the  Irish  people  to 
place  more  confidence  in  constitutional  effort.  It  was  prob- 
ably the  best  and  wisest  policy  such  a  party  could  devise. 
"You  will  gain  nothing  by  it,"  said  some  among  them;  "you 
will  accomplish  nothing  by  this  moderation.  You  will  be 
blindly  voted  down  all  the  same.  It  is  a  policy  of  combat 
you  should  set  yourselves  to  pursue."  "  We  shall  try  that 
if  we  must,  but  not  if  we  can  avoid  it,"  answered  the  Home 
Rule  chiefs. 

Amidst  such  circumstances,  beset  by  such  difficulties,  in- 
spired by  such  hopes,  facing  so  grave  a  problem,  the  Irish 
Home  Rule  party  pushed  forward  from  1874  to  1877,  the 
exponents  of  a  new  policy,  the  representatives  of  a  New 
Ireland  at  Westminster. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

LOSS    AND   GAIN. 

In  that  well-known  and  once  seditious  ballad  "  The  Wear- 
ing of  the  Green,"  an  anxious  query  is  pressed  as  to  how  it 
fares  with  Ireland : 

"  And  how  does  she  stand  ?" 

So  may  we,  ere  we  close  the  record  and  quit  our  theme,  ask, 
How  stands  Ireland  in  1877?  In  what  is  she  most  changed? 
What  is  the  loss  or  gain  between  the  old  time  and  the  new  ? 

Although,  contrasted  with  the  development  of  nations  in 
the  long  enjoyment  of  healthy  life,  the  progress  of  Ireland — 
material  and  intellectual,  social,  industrial,  educational,  and 
political — may  be  found  sadly  slow,  and  in  some  respects 
cruelly  retarded,  yet,  compared  with  her  own  dismal  historic 
standards,  she  has  made  great  strides  within  the  present  gen- 
eration. The  really  important  fact  is,  that  with  the  little  she 
has  gained  she  has  done  more,  and  bids  fair  to  accomplish 
relatively  greater  things,  than  any  nation  of  them  all. 

Serious  and  heavy  are  the  material  losses  to  be  weighed  in 
taking  a  balance  and  estimating  gains  upon  this  period.  The 
country  that  has  lost  in  thirty  years  one-third  of  its  popula- 
tion— a  million  by  famine,  and  two  millions  by  despairing 
flight — must  have  received  a  wellniffh  mortal  wound.  No 
glozing  fallacies,  no  heartless  theories,  have  availed  to  stamp 
ui)on  the  Irish  Famine  and  Exodus  any  character  less  dark 
than  that  of  utter  calamity.  Yet  Ireland  has  survived  the 
blow.  Economically  and  industrially  its  weakening  effects 
will  long  be  visible;  but  the  vitality  of  the  nation  has  tri- 
626 


LOSS  AND   GAIN.  527 

umphantly  asserted  itself.  Despite  all  disaster  and  difficulty, 
Ireland  is  marching  on. 

It  is  not  easy  to  arrive  at  accurate  conclusions  as  to  the  ex- 
tent of  Ireland's  material  progi'ess  between  1845  and  1875. 
The  necessary  records  were  not  in  existence,  or  were  very 
defective,  thirty  years  ago ;  and  some  of  the  tests  and  com- 
parisons frequently  applied  are  most  fallacious.  That  pro- 
gress depends  almost  entirely  on  agriculture,  manufacturing 
industry  being  still  but  little  known.  For  some  years  past 
many  signs  attest  that  the  agricultural  classes  in  Ireland 
liave  made  considerable  advance,  and  a  decided  increase  in 
the  national  wealth  has  been  thus  acquired.  But  hardly  any 
one  seems  to  notice  the  important  fact  that  this  has  risen  less 
from  extension  of  earning  power,  or  of  productive  area,  than 
from  a  rise  in  the  price  pf  certain  agricultural  products.  A 
considerable  increase  in  the  price  of  coal  a  few  years  ago 
brought  extravagantly  "  good  times"  to  the  colliers  and  mine- 
owners  while  it  lasted,  though  the  out-put  was  no  greater 
than  before.  If  nothing  occur  to  send  back  the  prices  of 
beef  and  mutton,  milk  and  butter,  eggs  and  poultry,  Ireland 
will  have  established  a  substantial  gain  in  material  prosperity. 
But  this  present  glow  of  "  good  prices"  is  too  commonly  con- 
founded with  the  solid  increase  of  wealth  that  results  from 
increased  productiveness.  It  is  in  great  part  perilously  ad- 
ventitious. There  are,  however,  numerous  indications  that 
the  respite  from  hardship,  the  comparative  comfort,  which 
the  farming  classes  have  thus  experienced  has  been  turned 
by  them  to  great  account.  These  few  years  of  better  circum- 
stances, together  with  the  influence  of  certain  other  changes, 
educational  and  political,  in  the  country,  have  had  a  startling 
effect  on  the  agriciTltural  population.  I^Tever  again,  without 
such  struggle  as  may  astonish  the  kingdom,  will  they  submit 
to  the  serfdom  and  destitution  of  old  times. 

The  educational  progress  and  attainments  of  Ireland  within 


528  ^^^  IRELAND. 

the  past  thirty  years  will  bear  no  comparison  with  what  has 
been  accomplished  in  Belgium,  America,  Germany,  France, 
Scotland,  England,  or  Switzerland.  But  the  effect  and  influ- 
ence on  Ireland  of  the  measure  of  educational  gain  achieved 
within  that  period  has  been  incalculable.  It  has,  as  I  have 
already  said,  revolutionized  the  country.  The  educational 
facilities  and  opportunities  within  the  reach  of  the  Irish 
people  are  still — especially  as  regards  intermediate  and  uni- 
versity education — "  miserably  bad,  scandalously  bad."  The 
Government  holds  to  its  determination  to  force  on  the  Irish 
millions  a  scheme  admittedly  out  of  accord  with  their  con- 
scientious convictions ;  and  thus  the  precious  aid  which  pop- 
ular sympathy  and  national  enthusiasm  would  bring  is  utterly 
lost  to  our  primary-school  system.  As  to  university  and 
intermediate  education  in  Ireland,  the  condition  of  affairs  is 
a  reproach  to  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  truly  lamentable 
that  in  such  a  matter  as  education  the  policy  of  force  majeure 
should  still  be  pursued  towards  a  people  to  whom  such  a 
huge  arrear  of  educational  restitution  is  due.  This  is  hardly 
the  way  to  make  requital  to  Ireland  for  a  century  of  laws 
that  hunted  down  the  schoolmaster  and  put  a  price  upon  his 
head. 

One  of  the  best  and  brightest  changes  visible  in  Ireland  is 
the  almost  total  disappearance  of  sectarian  animosities,  and 
the  kindlv  minglino;  of  creeds  and  classes  in  the  duties  of 
every-day  life.  Even  still,  no  doubt,  in  one  particular  corner 
of  the  island,  there  linger  traces  of  the  old  and  evil  spirit 
beneath  whose  accursed  influence  man  spilled  the  blood  of 
his  fellow-man  in  the  outraged  name  of  Religion.  But  even 
in  Ulster  these  insensate  feuds  are  steadily  giving  way.  Such 
passions  do  not  suddenly  subside.  Long  after  better  and 
nobler  feelings  have  gained  the  mastery,  the  fitful  spasms  of 
expiring  fanaticism  will  occasionally  present  their  ghastly 
spectacle;  but  the  end  is  none  the  less  inevitably  at  hand. 


LOSS  AND    GAIN.  529' 

Iq  Deny  city  the  annual  displays  that  formerly  involved 
periodical  wreck  and  bloodshed  have  for  the  past  five  or 
six  years,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  been  celebrated  amidst 
declarations  and  demonstrations  of  mutual  tolerance  and  good 
feeling.  In  Belfast  and  one  or  two  of  the  neighboring  towns 
no  such  happy  result  has  as  yet  been  safely  assured ;  but  in 
these  places  the  local  leaders  on  each  side  have  many  difficul- 
ties to  contend  with.  Every  party  and  faction  has  its  camp- 
followers  and  irregulars,  who,  amenable  to  no  discipline,  often 
stain  by  their  excesses,  and  compromise  by  their  assaults,  the 
cause  which  they  pretend  to  serve.  Every  season  it  becomes 
more  and  more  plain  that  Ulster  Orangeman  and  Ulster 
Catholic  are  equally  desirous  of  terminating  a  state  of  things 
which  was  the  scandal  of  Ireland  and  the  reproach  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

Elsewhere,  throughout  the  remaining  provinces  of  the  king- 
dom, concord,  tolerance,  and  kindly  feeling  largely  prevail. 
The  coincidence  whereby  the  lines  of  religious  demarcation 
correspond,  as  a  general  rule,  with  the  political  in  Ireland — 
Protestant  being  generally  synonymous  with  Conservative, 
and  Catholic  with  Liberal — is  very  unfortunate ;  for  often  a 
conflict  seems  to  be  sectarian  when,  in  fact,  it  is  only  political. 
On  the  whole,  the  painfully  sharp  distinctions  and  classifica- 
tions of  old  times  have  softened  down ;  and  the  different  social 
classes  and  religious  denominations  no  longer  resemble  so 
many  warring  tribes  encamped  upon  the  land. 

It  is,  however,  in  the  domain  of  politics  that  the  most 
serious  changes  are  to  be  noted  in  Ireland.  The  gravity  and 
importance  of  those  changes  will  be  recognized  only  when 
they  are  studied  in  the  twofold  aspect  of  their  effect  on  Ireland 
herself,  and  their  effect  on  England. 

There  never  was  a  period  until  now,  since  the  passing  of 
the  Union,  in  which  the  Irish  representation  was  not  amena- 
ble to  the  influences,  and  more  or  less  subject  to  the  authority, 
2 1  45 


530  ^'^^^  IRELAND. 

of  the  governing  parties,  Liberal  or  Conservative, — the  min- 
isterial or  ex-ministerial  chiefs, — in  Loudon.  Had  it  been 
otherwise,  many  a  time  it  might  have  been  a  serious  peril  for 
England  to  have  had  a  hundred  and  five  Irishmen  with  their 
hands  on  the  lever  of  imperial  affairs  at  Westminster.  As  it 
Avas,  they  were  merely  so  many  imperial  AVhigs  and  Tories, 
■whose  action  in  the  main  was  directed  and  controlled  by  the 
Mel  bournes  or  Lyndhursts,  Russells  or  Peels,  Stanleys  or 
Aberdeeus,  of  the  hour.  If  the  continuance  or  discontinuance 
of  such  a  system  now  lay  wholly  or  mainly  in  the  choice  of 
the  representatives  themselves,  its  abandonment  during  a  year 
or  two  might  be  a  matter  of  little  moment,  as  a  merely  tem- 
porary variation.  But  a  change,  a  radical  cliange,  has  been 
brouglit  about  under  very  critical  circumstances. 

It  is  only  within  the  past  thirty  or  forty  years  that  in  Ire- 
land the  bulk  of  the  people,  long  kept  outside  the  pale  of  the 
constitution,  may  be  said  to  have  actively  entered  public  life. 
That  is  to  say,  the  political  influence  of  Ireland,  such  as  it 
was,  even  so  recently  as  thirty  years  ago,  was  exercised  in 
their  name  and  on  their  behalf,  not  by  the  people  themselves. 
Ten  years  ago  the  franchise  was  placed  practically  within 
their  reach,  yet  its  use  was  then,  to  them,  too  full  of  deadly 
peril  to  make  the  possession  a  l)Oon.  Five  years  ago,  how- 
eV'Cr,  came  a  measure  which,  as  if  by  the  flash  of  a  magician's 
wand,  has  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  Irish  politics.  The 
ballot  has  brought,  for  the  first  time,  the  influence  and  the 
will  of  the  Irish  people  directly  to  bear  on  the  assembly  at 
Westminster.  With  a  marvellous  rapidity  they  have  realized 
the  great  agencies  now  within  their  control.  With  rather 
sudden  energy  they  have  cast  aside  the  tutelage  of  former 
davs.  The  political  power  of  Ireland  has  passed  for  aye 
from  the  custody  of  leaders,  managers,  and  proxy-holders, 
in  the  sense  in  which  they  held  it  and  used  it  of  old.  The 
statesmen  who  have  to  deal  with  the  Ireland  of  to-day  will 


LOSS  AND    GAIN.  531 

find  that  they  are  face  to  face  with  new  elements,  new  forms 
and  forces,  social,  economic,  and  political. 

It  becomes  of  the  first  importance  to  appreciate  the  temper 
and  tendency,  the  bent  and  purpose,  of  those  millions  whom 
the  School,  the  jS^ewspaper,  the  Franchise,  and  the  Ballot 
haye  made  masters  of  the  situation  in  Ireland.  Equally 
necessary  is  it  to  take  into  view  the  one  hundred  and  seventy 
thousand  Irish  voters  in  the  cities  and  towns  of  Britain,  daily 
preparing  themselves  for  more  complete  and  resolute  co- 
operation with  the  efforts  of  their  countrymen  at  home.  As 
long  as  the  working  classes  of  England  were  unenfranchised, 
these  vast  bodies  of  Celtic  material  accumulated  between  the 
Tay  and  the  Thames  were  of  little  account.  But  as  every 
day  the  influence  of  those  classes  increases — as  the  franchise 
is  extended,  and  school  board,  j^oor-law,  municipal,  and  par- 
liamentary elections  admit  the  masses  of  the  people  to  the 
exercise  of  public  power — the  men  whom  Irish  landlordism 
swept  in  thousands  from  their  native  valleys  in  the  western 
island  will  as  a  consequence  be  heard  from.  They  are  placed 
in  all  the  great  centres  of  public  opinion  and  political  activity; 
and  some  of  the  most  momentous  issues  of  the  near  future 
will  be  largely  determined,  one  way  or  another,  by  their  aid. 
Not  in  a  year,  nor  in  two  years,  will  they  be  able  to  con- 
stitute or  organize  themselves,  and  exhibit  perfect  discipline 
and  trained  intelligence;  but  all  this  is  plainly  ahead, — is 
merely  a  matter  of  time.  No  graver  anxiety  can  weight  the 
mind  of  a  patriotic  Irishman  contemplating  these  things  than 
that  which  surrounds  the  question  as  to  how,  and  in  what 
temper,  the  Irish  people  at  home  and  in  England  may  use 
the  powers  within  their  reach.  Here  and  there,  we  may  be 
sure,  some  errors  of  impulse,  unreason,  or  passion  will  occa- 
sionally be  seen ;  and  that  impatience  of  result  so  character- 
istic of  our  race — greatly  but  not  wholly  reformed  of  late — 
will  betimes  break  forth.     Above  all,  it  must  be  borne  in 


.532  ^^^^  IRELAND. 

mind  that,  like  the  party  of  Kossuth  sullenly  watching  the' 
endeavors  of  Francis  Deak  ten  years  ago  in  Hungaiy,  there 
are  men  in  Ireland,  in  America,  and  in  England — few,  but 
not  less  determined,  some  of  them  more  desperate  than  ever 
— who  hope  in  the  break-down  of  public  effort  to  have 
■another  chance  for  the  resorts  of  violence.  But  there  'are 
abundant  proofs  that  the  great  body  of  the  Irish  people,  in 
sober  but  resolute  purpose,  are  determined  to  work  out  their 
national  policy  by  the  agencies  of  public  opinion  and  the 
weapons  of  political  power.  And  assuredly  no  happier  cir- 
cumstance has  cheered  the  outlook  of  Irish  politics  in  our 
century  than  the  daily  increasing  exchange  of  sympathies, 
and  the  more  loudly  avowed  sentiments  of  reconciliation 
and  friendship,  between  the. peoples  of  Ireland  and  of  Great 
Britain. 

What  the  veil  of  the  future  may  hide  is  not  given  to  man 
to  know.  Enough  for  us  that  in  skies  long  darkened  and 
torn  by  cloud  and  storm  thrice-blessed  signs  of  peace  and 
hope  appear.     The  future  is  with  God. 


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